Inauguration and snowballs

Wow.

My heart is beating so fast that I'm surprised I can even hold a pen.

Where to start? Where to even start writing about this?

I think perhaps by stating this: I am a woman very much in love.

I know you knew that. I suspect it’s blindingly obvious to anyone who has been watching me. But there have been times when I doubted it. There have been times I was unaware of it. There have been times when the very thought of being so much as infatuated with this infuriating man... well, you get the picture.

But, oh my goodness, tonight. He has never looked so incredibly attractive as when he told me I looked amazing (!!! :) !!!). I have never seen such tenderness in him. Tenderness – for me. Unmistakable, for once.

So unmistakable, in fact, that I’m re-assessing many of the ambiguous moments of the last few years in this new light.

Well, re-assessing sounds very level-headed and practical, and I can assure you that right now I am feeling neither of those things. My feet have not touched the ground since my window got attacked by snowballs.

Who said romance was dead?

He couldn’t even finish telling me off properly. He didn’t even flinch before his gave me his coat.

Maybe there’s more to this than just a daydream. Maybe he has those daydreams too.

The dictionary definition of “wistful”, by the way, is this: full of longing or unfulfilled desire.

Not for much longer... hopefully. Come on, Josh. You’re da man.

You’re certainly mine.

No more sailors. I don’t care how many buttons or sabres they have.

You, in a tux from Gary’s, is fine by me.

Oh, my goodness. So much more than fine.