The Paul Stamp of Approval

P stumbled onto his computer this morning logged onto Messenger and decided to vote for my Blog, just as Messenger subliminally suggested. In the course of voting however, he decided to browse., which I might add delayed his collapsing into bed.

In hindsight, I probably should have started archiving our messages at this point, because he said stuff like 'I enjoy reading about you' and 'I want to know what you're doing'. These are not verbatim quotes mind you, just a suggestion of what he may have almost possibly come close to saying, there is of course room for misinterpretation (as always). But in a nutshell, basically, he said post away, so I have reposted some things I pulled. The reason I pulled certain posts is because as therapeutic for me blogging maybe, it is most certainly counterproductive if it's making another kind of mess in it's wake.

The truth is however, is that I have been keeping some sort of journal since fourth grade, but basically stopped during my adulthood, it really is difficult to find a private quiet moment with children. Blogging definitely meets more than one need in my life. These needs being: quiet time with my thoughts, typing practice, and I guess now another form of communication with my husband. The last reason being the most important, because I am and have been emotionally constipated forever, and I am better able to convey my feelings through the written word. Our reconciliation process actually began during an IM session when I only lived about 5 miles across town. Technology, sometimes it can be a wonderful thing.


To My Man in Tan
These words are my own, from my heart flow,
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,
There's no other way to better say
I love you, I love you


Tryin to find the magic,
Tryin to write a classic,
Dontcha know, dontcha know, dontcha know?
Wastebin full of paper,
clever rhymes- see ya later


I love you I love you, thats all I got to say
cant think of a better way, and thats all I got to say
I love you, is that ok?

-Natashe Bedington, 'These Words'