Let’s Just Do More Dumb Shit

So, I was feeling way super insanely insecure this morning about my still-kind-of-new relationship with possibly the greatest man ever. Tyler is a wonderful guy. I love him dearly, and I know he loves me. But just something about today seemed off, so I did what I always do when something is bothering me- I sat down and wrote it out. It’s wonderful therapy, and I highly recommend it. The level of clarity you get is phenomenal.

It turned into a 3-page letter to Tyler explaining why I felt so suddenly insecure about things, and I’m tempted to put a copy of it up here so you guys can see how incredibly clingy and needy I can be. Anyway, after I finished, all of the insecurity just kind of disappeared. Everything I expressed concern about in the letter is completely unfounded, and frankly, I feel super-derpy for having let it get me upset. I laughed. It’s freeing to laugh at yourself so hard that you can’t breathe. Or it might mean that I’m kind of crazy and emotionally unstable. Either way, I feel 100% more secure about our relationship now, having just gotten all that random-ass crap from this morning out of my head.

So, here’s what happened- Tyler and I are engaged, but it’s still a relatively new thing. He was getting ready for work this morning, and asked what I was doing. I replied that I was writing in my journal. He laughed, and said,

“Dear Diary, my boyfriend is the worst ever,”

Aside from that of course being a horrible, self-depreciating joke on his part (which we’re going to discuss later, because it bothers me that he does that to himself so often), he called himself my boyfriend. Not my fiance. That bothered me. A lot. Like, a ridiculous amount. I didn’t stop to think, “Oh, hey, this is still a new thing, he’s not used to referring to himself as my fiance yet.” No. My crazy-female-brain decided, “Oh shit! Are we not engaged anymore? What happened? What went wrong?”

HA! Joke’s on you, brain! Nothing went wrong. Now, what to do with this dumb letter…

I texted Tyler, and told him I wrote him a really stupid insecure letter about something that was ridiculous to get upset over, and now we’re planning to read it together when he gets home, and laugh about it.

Some of it might show up in some poetry later on. Insecure me apparently comes up with some really great poetic shit.

Being a human is so overwhelming, sometimes.

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