Keeping the Habit

I have resolved to write in Open Diary much more, and the best way I can see to do that is to write every day, even when nothing terribly exciting has happened.

That is what I did when I was writing in here frequently, and I noticed that I began to notice more things in life…  to analyze them more…  to remember things to write.

And that’s when I was doing my best with myself, so maybe this is a key.

I first "quit" OD when I got my paper journal.  I was fairly faithful to it, and it did much the same thing as Open Diary.  It was really great, but I got out of the habit of using that, too.

Mostly I was just talking to Bryan all of the time.  All of a sudden my observations had an outlet outside of writing.  I had someone who found my dreams interesting, someone who was interested in my thoughts, ideas, and feelings.  I, at least, see why it was so easy to neglect writing.  Telling a real person is just so much more interesting.

The problem comes when Bryan isn’t available, or when I am upset at Bryan.  These rarely happen, but they do occur.  And that’s when I’m left feeling like shit.  One should note that I always talk to Bryan when we have a problem, and we do resolve it, quite well.  Some of these issues just can’t be faced immediately, for various reasons.

So let’s see– you ODers have not heard much about Bryan, as I kind of left here before he really entered the picture.  Speaking of pictures:

He doesn’t photograph very well, so it’s really nice to get a great picture of him (like the top one– I think it’s my favorite picture of him ever, but I’m biased, because I took it.).  The bottom one is just us being really cute.  Also, I swear it took an hour to get that picture.

You see, my parents wanted a picture of us for our family calendar (a big deal– if you’re in the calendar, you’re officially part of the family; this isn’t just my parents, brother, and me, this is my mom’s entire side of the family also), but I didn’t really have a good one of us together.  So my parents sat us down and took pictures.

My dad, apparantly, can’t take portraits.  He tried and tried and tried.  The instant my mom got the camera, she took about five photos, and they were all great.  Which is quite a feat, considering that we were fairly grumpy for having to sit in that chair for quite a long time.

Anyway.  Bryan is wonderful.

He is smart.  He can beat me at chess.  He excels at strategy games.  He is a fantastic speller, and a straight ‘A’ student.  He is currently majoring in math, and is usually one of the top three people in each of his classes.

He is amazingly kind, nice, and gentle.  These are usually the reasons that I am attracted to women– I, quite honestly, was very surprised to find such qualities in a man.  He always listens, he’s supportive, he cares about others and the environment.  He cries when he’s sad.  He’s not afraid to say how he’s feeling (at least not to me).  He’s amazingly good at empathizing, even when I’m just a ball of raging girl hormones.

He is mature.  I have rarely seen someone make such adult decisions, especially at our age.  He’s very good at listening to his head and to his heart, and making the best out of any situation.  He is tactful beyond belief.  The only person I’ve met who has more tact is his father.

He loves goofing around, and he loves it especially when I goof around.  I have to admit:  this quality is a must for me.  I am more often than not quite silly, I embrace my inner child almost constantly, and I love silly acrobatics and stupid jokes.  Bryan laughs when I attack him with my stuffed Utahraptor, George, especially when I shout instructions, loudly, about the best way to get to the jugular.  Also worth mentioning– George was my Christmas present from Bryan.  Too bad he keeps getting eaten.  Poor boyfriend.

He is very intent on physical fitness and eating correctly.  I am not so great in these areas.  I tend to not eat junk food, but I also tend to just not eat food.  (Not due to anorexia or anything of that nature, mostly just due to forgetfulness, pickiness, and vegetarianism).  He gets me out and excercising, he keeps me eating, and he makes pies.

He bakes!  A lot!  He loves (I repeat, LOVES) making pies.  Whenever he has access to an oven, I swear I get a pie a week.  Apple pie, peach lattice pie, key lime pie, rhubarb pie…  Serious.  If you can name it, he can make it.  And it’s always delicious.  Usually the best I’ve had.

Not only baking, but cooking too!  Could this get any better?!  He has a natural talent for seasoning things, and it pays off.  Anything he makes is fantastic, and he keeps getting better and better.  All I need to do is clean up after him (which, admittedly, does take a fair amount of effort, he is what you might call an "enthusiastic chef").

His family loves me!  Not just that they like me a lot, they seriously love me.  They include me in all of their family events, they give me hugs, they get me Christmas presents…  I am definitely a part of his family, and it is quite wonderful.  It makes me so damned happy.

And that was perhaps one of the more gushy entries that I’ve ever written.  And I’m fine with it.  Because I like him.  So there.

He’s also coming to pick me up for dinner in ten minutes, so I’m going to head out.  Tootles everyone!