D had one of his first major exams on Monday. I went up there afterwards and we went out for a little while, which mostly ended up with us staying up all night talking, and having sex, which I will address in a short moment. Things between us are so different. I know I keep harping on this, but it's only because it is so real, and it's what I've wanted for so long. I hope this doesn't come back to bite me in the ass, but I feel like something might be going right for a change.

In addition to this behavioral and all-around relationship change there's been a change in sex as well. For one thing we're having so much of it that I think it might be part of the reason we're not fighting, there's no time. It's not just quantity either. I think that on Friday I left fingernail marks on his back, something I never do, but that he strongly encouraged as an alternative to screaming my face off. Yes, I was having that much of a good time. On Tuesday we snuggled up together all day. I've never been one for cuddling, but somehow, without all that animosity between us it just feels better being close.

My meds were screwing with my head a little; I was experiencing some of the frequent side-effects that I so luckily endure. He held my head to his chest and stroked my hair, telling me how proud he is of me for fighting through stuff like that to be well. I am better, I can tell just in the way I react to him, and to other people. I've been so tired lately though. I keep trying hard to eat healthy and exercise, in hopes that I might be able to eventually lessen the doses of both my meds.

So many times lately I find myself looking back and feeling sad about the people that I've lost along the journey to be well. I know that so much of it is my fault, or at least the fault of the sick girl that was me. I know that I treated so many people close to me so badly, and I'll always feel bad for it. D has really been there through the worst of it. My mom cleaned up a lot of the pieces, but he's really put his time in throughout the strongest of the stormy times. When I think of the things I've said to him, the ways I've treated him, I want to cry in shame. Maybe that's why it's easier to just lose friends. Then you don't have to be reminded of all the horrible things you've done to them in the past.

D came out of the bathroom early Tuesday morning to find me in tears. His first reaction was one of slight panic. I saw the thoughts run through his head "What's happened? She's crying for no reason, this can't be good." I just shook my head at him. He walked over to the bed, climbed in and put his arms around me; "Baby, what is it?" he asked...

"I miss our apartment" I squeaked.

"Me too" he whispered, pulling my hair away from my face.

"We didn't say goodbye to it."

"We can now, if you want to" he said.

"No, it's too late."

"We'll have another one"

"Not like that though, not so nice, not for a while... and..."

"It was our first one" he murmured at me.

"I feel like we messed it up," I started.

"We were just learning, and learning for us is hard work, but we learned it didn't we?" he reasoned.

"I think so" I agreed.

"What did you learn?" he asked, and I felt like I was in the fourth grade.

"Not to be so uptight about how clean things are, it's ok to let it go. You?"

"To have more sex with you, to touch you more, to enjoy the way you take care of me. Nobody else does those things for me."

"They certainly had better not be. Your things were better than mine."

"You might have been better about knowing what to do than I was. It'll be better next time" he said.

"Will there be a next time?" I was starting to feel warm and comfortable.

"It'd be a funny way to be married if we didn't"


It's what I feared.

He's been abducted by aliens, and this is just the pod-person they've sent to replace him. Their research on his personality was incomplete. Apparently, they missed the part where he's deathly afraid of commitment without oodles of thought and mulling and stewing.

Call me crazy, but I like this pod-person guy.