Sunday, February 26, 2017

Sometimes I ramble on and on and *shut up, Rudy*

TGB is working this weekend at night.

She came to bed before I woke up so, I woke up and reached over and she was there and I smiled.

That last sentence was horribly structured. I don't even care.

I came downstairs singing a Frank song because of her just being there.

She smoothes out my creases.

A lot of songs remind me of a lot of things. Some songs even remind me of multiple things/people in my life.

I dated a girl once who hated certain songs and movies because they reminded her of people she no longer loved. That they might have been songs or movies I loved was of no consequence; she hated them so they were not to be listened to or watched.

She sometimes would ask me if a song I was enjoying reminded me of someone else. When I said yes, she insisted she not be forced to listen to it anymore.

We did not last.

She was hot so, we lasted a little longer than we should have but, still.

I don't ask TGB if songs or movies or anything remind her of men she once loved. Why make her feel on the spot for enjoying a song or a memory of someone who maybe once mattered to her? When she enjoys a song that reminds me of someone who did me wrong, I don't mention it. I just try to concentrate a little harder on that particular moment with TGB. It washes away the bad taste of the memory associated with the song. I have even found that some songs I once dreaded have come to mean something else entirely in the last few years.

I am rambling.

Everything the person you love has ever done, every person they have ever loved, every experience, fuck, hate, loss, laugher, tear they've shed has made them the person you love. Instead of insisting they whitewash the life they had before you, celebrate them just as they are. Because, at the end of the day, that person is there with you and she could have picked any number of, other, far more interesting people than you.

Titty sprinkles!