I was pondering this question this morning while cycling to work, yes despite the fact I had set off late and was killing myself trying to get to work on time I still had time to ponder questions, or should that be worry about stuff?!
Last night I was watching Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, I have to admit I am a massive Bridget Jones fan and can’t wait for the new book/film (am I right thinking both are coming out?) and I was watching the part where Colin Firth chases Hugh Grant around the fountain and I couldn’t help thinking would OH do that for me? When I was single the result of a night of romantic films and a night in was falling asleep with my arms wrapped round a pillow dreaming of the day I would be falling asleep with a guy next to me who loved me so much I was his world… now that I am in a relationship I have a rather more annoying response of lying on OHs chest and asking him repeatedly if he loves me enough to fly across the world to break me out of jail, chase Hugh Grant around a fountain to protect my honour… you get the idea. However last night OH refused to tell me he loved me, this resulted in me going to bed in a huff rather than in a cloud of fluffiness and love which should be the result of a good romantic film!
This morning OH announced as he was walking out the door that he was taking my car into work (I had chosen to cycle, he did not just steal my car) to see if he could sort out my tyres for me because they have been leaking and squeaking every time I corner. The other day I sent him a quick text saying I didn’t feel well and he arrived home with flowers to cheer me up, he drops my lunch into work if I ever forget it, when work was flooded he drove past my work every day to make sure I could get home, before we lived together for an entire week he took over 20 miles detour to pick me up in a morning to take me to work so I didn’t have to drive in the snow and on my last drunken night out he drove for an hour to pick me up at 1am in the morning so that I could drink and not have to drive.
If actions speak louder than words… why do I get so hung up on the need to hear him say ‘I love you?’