Category Archives: Italy

Overall thoughts on Italy and things we do

Logic – not something everyone can get to grips with!

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There is a cooling breeze coming through the open window.  It is, in spite of my adoration of the heat here, most welcome.

For days, now, the temperature during the day has been reaching the mid-thirties (Celsius) and my body has been, as they say of ladies, glowing!  But, glowing profusely.  A shower offers welcome respite for all of 2 minutes. I try not to move much. Certainly, I ‘do’ as little as possible.

But, last night we had a storm. I truly love these summer storms. The cloud cover, us being in the city, is not black and gloomy but rather bright and orange. The lightening, whether sheet or forked, is a wonder. We never had these type of storms in the UK – well, rarely. With it (but this is not always so) came rain. Probably less than half an hour but refreshing, nonetheless. With it also came wind, the only problem being that I had to shut windows and/or shutters, thus depriving the house from the real cooling effect it gave. Even so, the wind was not really cold – just cooler.

We were going to go to F’s flat – but the rain meant we were delayed. I had been mindful of the fact that F has not been sleeping well. The heat (which he hates), the dogs, my snoring and, of course, not least, work – now that he is working 6 days per week. Saturday night we had stayed at mine. The heat, during the night, imperceptibly different from the day-time heat. Even a sheet on top of you is almost too much to bear – and so, usually the sheet is thrown to one side.

I wake up, during the night. F has a headache and will I get him an aspirin. I do. Then he decides to move to the bottom of the bed, lying across the bottom of the bed at 90° to me (and the normal way of sleeping) – this allows him to have his head closest to the open window, trying to catch the slightest wisp of moving air, which is rare and, in any case, is as warm as having none.

I had promised to get down the fan. And, given the night he had had, I did get it down on Sunday, whilst he was at work. I plugged it in, making sure it was working and positioned to give the maximum of benefit for when we are in bed.

But, in any event, last night he finished really late and so, as I expected, we (the dogs and I) went round to his place.

As we are lying in bed, the breeze was really fantastic. As I said, not really cold – just cooler but enough so that I got under the sheet, covering my bare shoulders.

“I got the fan down, so we can have that at my house”, I said, pleased with myself that I had, at long last, done something to make him more comfortable.

“I have a fan too”, he said, adding, “but I can’t have it on during the night, otherwise I will get a stiff neck”.

I am glad it is dark. I am glad that I don’t laugh out loud. What I want to say is:
“But you have the window open at night – including tonight, when the air is cool – how can that be different from having a fan going?”

Apparently it is different.

Sometimes, the logic defies reason.

What is wrong with some people? Will they never be happy?

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Let’s be honest people are strange.

Take V, for instance. When we first got together, he had a thing about his birthday. We used to go to his parents. He would arrive, expecting presents by the barrow-load. One time, we arrived about 11 a.m. No one was home. He got so angry. Why weren’t they there to celebrate his birthday? How dare they just go out! We left and went home, I think – although maybe we didn’t. All I remember is the anger. I tried to explain that as he hadn’t told them when he was coming, how were they to know to be there at that time. But there was really no placating him.

When we had the computer business, there was this woman, A, who worked closely with him. She was married to L. Every year, it didn’t matter what L tried to do, birthdays, Christmases and anniversaries were fraught with danger. For him it must have felt like going over the top at the Western Front!

Every time was the same. He would try and surprise her with something and every time he would be rebuffed as it wasn’t what she wanted or was too cheap or something. And, amazingly (because I would have given up after a couple of years), he went to some great lengths to try to please her.

But, whatever he did it simply wasn’t good enough. V & I (for he had got over his thing by then) would gasp at the whole thing.

And now I have S, my colleague. Actually, in many ways, she reminds me of A. The ‘show’ is the thing not the substance.

And, so, tomorrow, is her birthday. It’s quite an important one and it’s quite obvious that this is a milestone she doesn’t want to be at. For a few weeks there have been odd murmurings from her about how it’s going to be terrible. Her husband, she thought, was trying to pull off a surprise party. She was complaining about the people he would probably invite and she spoke to him several times about who she didn’t want at the party.

Eventually, last week, it was agreed that they would go out for a meal – just the two of them. But she’s not happy with that either. I think that, secretly, she wanted a surprise party but was preparing herself to complain about was there and who wasn’t there.

And the present has been an issue too, apparently with him suggesting that she goes choose some shoes – which is obviously not good enough since shoes do not last forever – or even a couple of seasons!

ut, then, she tells me this morning that her birthday is always like this and her husband is always wanting to do something and it’s always a disaster. Last year was some restaurant with some friends but it was a terrible restaurant and the food was not good, etc.

And her husband always wants to do something on her birthday because his is in the first week of August – and they are away at the seaside then, in France, where they have a house. And so, he can’t celebrate his birthday in the way he would like and tries to muscle in on hers. It’s been like this for over 20 years, she says.

Now he has some people coming round on Thursday night. Apparently she told him that she wasn’t cooking and he said that it was not necessary because they would have cake. She asked him who was invited and, apparently it is some friends of his and some people from the block of flats. So she asked if a certain person was coming and he said no and she said that they were the only people that she really got on with and if he was going to invite people from the block then she would invite them and he didn’t think this was a good idea and she said that she is having nothing to do with it and she was going to make it quite plain that this is NOT a birthday party and certainly NOT a birthday party for HER.

And there are times when she just needs a good slap to get her to come to her senses.

After all, what’s wrong with sharing the birthday with him? They will be in France when it’s his and this, being Italy, probably means he has always missed out on birthdays with friends because it’s always in the holidays – the same way as F did/does.

And I know that she will never be happy. Everything will always be wrong – even if this year is worse because of the impending five-zero.

But, like I used to feel sorry for L, I feel sorry for him. In a way. To be honest, this should have been knocked on the head from the start. This kind of crap you don’t need when you’re trying to do your best for someone.

It just annoys me!

Some stuff

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I have had it sitting on my desk, with a stamp on, for weeks and weeks. To post it, it meant a trip down Via Castel Morrone to the post office. Post boxes, here, always seem in such short supply.

I keep meaning to do it. It’s not crucial. It’s the acceptance to the invitation to the wedding. The wedding is at the end of this month but they know we’re coming, so it’s not crucial.

But, apparently, the Bride’s mum likes getting them back and mine has an Italian stamp – so more exotic, I guess. And, anyway, the stamp’s used now so I might as well.

OK, I say to myself, I WILL go the the post office tonight.

I take the card from the desk and have it in my hand as I walk round the corner to the car. I will put it on the seat of the car to remind me to go there tonight.

As I walk round the corner, I almost bump into a post box! I never knew it was there. I walk past it nearly every day, sometimes twice a day and never noticed it before. We men are crap. As my mother used to say – we can’t see for looking.

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I don’t know whether he forgot it ‘on purpose’. I knew, that morning, that he wasn’t going to come. Sometimes, I think, I am beginning to understand him.

He gets up to his alarm. It is 7.30 a.m. I would like to stay in bed and would like to get more sleep but probably won’t. But Saturday and Sunday are the only two days I get to sleep in.

I get up to let him out and then go back to bed. But I know sleep won’t come now so get up anyway.

I see his phone. Hmmmm. I think to myself that it would be easier for him not to come tonight if he doesn’t have his phone. He could say that he needed to go and get it or that he couldn’t tell me what time he had come back or that he wasn’t sure whether we had gone somewhere else, etc, etc.

I go onto FB and chat to him. I tell him I have his phone. He says not to worry. I say I will bring it round. He says he will be fine without it. I say that if he doesn’t have it I cannot tell him where we go and what time, etc. I say I will bring it round shortly.

I take the dogs. After all, it is ‘cooler’ at this time. We walk the normal way. We go through an area between the trees in a quieter street. there are, usually, at night, a couple of homeless people, possibly of Asian descent, that sleep on a couple of benches. If they were there last night then they got up earlier. They are not there. I guess, that Sunday is much like any other day for them – possibly less people to beg off – if they beg.

But they are gone. In the distance, at the end of this patch of green and trees, on the end bench I see someone lying down, probably asleep.

As I approach the bench, I see at the side of it, the obligatory empty beer bottle. I think he may be the guy who I often see on that bench. The one who doesn’t seem to be homeless as he’s always sitting there, not sleeping there – as far as I knew.

As I approach with the dogs, the guy wakes up, or, at least, gets up. He looks homeless. He has a shirt and trousers but they do look like they have seen better days.

As we come aside the bench he reaches in his pocket and pulls out his mobile phone!

What?????

OK, so maybe not homeless after all – or someone who is homeless but rich enough to have a mobile phone?

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Dino has two, very annoying habits. He licks and he pulls on the lead. The licking (as I may have mentioned before) I can’t seem to stop. The pulling I can but it takes time.

And so, at least at the start of every walk he pulls and he’s quite a strong dog – about 25Kgs of solid muscle! I yank him back and make him walk beside me until he stops pulling.

But it couldn’t last forever.

His collar is a material (cotton) collar. It starts to break. So now, tonight, I have to go and buy a collar. First a bigger one as his neck is much thicker than Rufus’. Secondly a leather one as a leather one will last much longer!

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Update:
He didn’t come. He could have but he didn’t. I didn’t think he would.

I am walking home and I am tired. I phone him and it seems like he cut off the call. Maybe he’s asleep already. I text to say I am going home and then taking the dogs out and then going to bed as he seems asleep.

I get home. It seems he’s on Facebook. I chat to him that I tried to phone and that I have sent a text.

I take the dogs out. I come back and am having a quick glass of milk. He calls. The phone was on charge in the bathroom. He left the computer on. He was watching telly in the bedroom. Am I coming round, he asks. If you don’t mind, no, I reply. I am ready for bed. He says the phone did not say I had phoned.

Ah well, anyway, he seems to have bad nights with me or, maybe, because of the heat, I don’t know. Still, it does no harm for us to spend the occasional night apart – or is that wicked of me?

The cool places

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Well, Dino has found the coolest possible place in the flat. One where there are the most cold-water pipes, of course. The floor is much cooler there. He curls himself up between the toilet and the shower.

Normally, I don’t allow him in the bathroom but, right now, I would feel bad for kicking him out.

The thermometer on my desk reads 32. To be honest, I haven’t seen it drop much below that in the last few days. All the windows are open, trying to grasp every last bit of breeze. It has it’s disadvantages, of course. The main one being that the sirens from the main street (which I don’t even look onto) are very loud. And, poor Dino doesn’t like sirens. It must hurt his ears or something. He howls.

However, it’s not so often that they go past. I take the risk with the neighbours. I’m sure something will be said if it’s a problem. At least they don’t bark like some of the other canine occupants of our building.

I sweat. All the time. Showers give relief – but only for seconds. I’m not too bad if I don’t move. I’m fine if I move. It’s the stopping after I move that opens the floodgates and make it seem like I am in a shower. People don’t understand. But I have the same genes as my grandfather.

But this is, in every way, far better than being cold. This I can do. Being cold is a problem.

I go to Porta Venezia but phone F first. He was taking a walk to Corso Buenos Aires because he had the carpenter in. F is in Feltrinelli – a book shop that also sells DVDs and CDs. He will be buying CDs, I expect. His flat looks like a CD shop as it is. But it’s his passion, so that’s OK by me and, anyway, he can afford it.

I meet him inside. It is lovely after the heat of the morning outside. Very cool. He can’t find a CD that he wants. He has most of them.

“I can’t find a punk CD”, he says. I wonder why because punk music doesn’t really seem his thing. He finds a compilation of punk. I suppose it is for his DJ stuff that he does. He will probably mix it with something.

I suggest something to eat and also that I do something for tonight. He agrees, sort of.

He asks where we should go. I suggest a café just off Corso Buenos Aires. We go. It’s OK. It’s quiet as it’s off the main street. We sit outside and have salads. I then go to get fags and do some shopping.

By the time I get in the lift, I am starting to resemble Niagara Falls.

But it’s OK for me. I go straight out again to get a water melon and some milk, not having wanted to traipse them all the way back from the other supermarket but from the one near me instead.

I put on the last wash. The temperature at my desk is still 32 but it is much, much hotter outside and we have, from time to time, a slight breeze.

I will do some ironing and some tidying up and then prepare food for tonight. I will do some work, maybe. Tomorrow nothing will be done.

Tomorrow (Sunday) is Wimbledon at the 442 with friends. F will be working. Maybe he will meet us later at the Leon D’Oro. I hope so.

Back to the grind; a little lopsided

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Well, finally, I’m on my way! Yessssssss!

I met my first student yesterday. Very sweet and, I think, it will be a lot of fun. Then, I was telling FfI and it might be that she can put some work my way, which would be very cool.

And I did some things I have been putting off; tidying stuff in the house and sorting some things, so I feel like I really did something this weekend, which also makes me happy.

Now, tonight, I must start digging out the stuff I need to teach English and start doing the photocopies and stuff.

Saturday night, we went to a ‘new’ restaurant – Piero & Pia. We sat outside as it was warm but with a nice breeze. I had goose liver pate with some warm, sweet bread, followed by rack of lamb (and for once, here, in Italy, it was cooked right – pink) with roasted potatoes and then a thick, creamy rice pudding with a sprinkling of sultanas and a light dusting of coconut for sweet. It was all delicious. With wine and water it was something around €50 per head. Not outrageous but not cheap either!

The only problem was at the end. F insisted on paying for it all. It’s just that I really can’t afford it right now but I’m annoyed at myself for being in a position where we can’t go ‘dutch’. This is one of the reasons for going back to English teaching. It will just give me the spending money I need and, hopefully, will just give me that bit extra for our holidays. I know F can afford it (the occasional meal, etc.) but that’s not really the point.

Ah, well – soon it will be different :-)

Going or not going? More importantly, why?

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“you know, other things ……..work, house, you, the babies :-)”

I can be a disingenuous sometimes, it’s true. Of course I knew the list included me and the babies. When I said that I wasn’t sure this morning, when he asked if he should go, I was hoping and wanting him to say this. Even if, last night, he was a bit concerned when I told him that I may not be able to get the ‘sitter’ for the dogs and, so, maybe wouldn’t come. He suggested that I could come on just the Sunday. I said we’ll see. No, he doesn’t want to go unless I am coming or following behind. But this morning I said that he should go. He needs to see his parents and has, probably, promised his best friend. Or, rather, nearly promised.

Still, we all need confirmation about the feelings of those around us, from time to time, don’t we?

And so he isn’t going. And, so, I’m not going either. There will be another time. It would be so much easier if we could use his house. Then we could take the dogs and all would be fine. Let’s hope it becomes free soon.

Missing me; Tuscany, maybe?; Weather in Italy – when to have a holiday; In hot water; This blog

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“Looking forward to seeing you and the babies”

It hasn’t been that long.

“We are still in the restaurant, eating outside. I imagine our holidays – with the babies”

I take them out of order and, probably out of context. It’s my blog and I can do what I want.

In fact, it is only since 5.45 this morning when I got up and left him to wake up more slowly. But he was getting up at 6 anyway. He was going to the store near Venice.

It is hot and sunny there and cooler and more rainy here. But the rain will pass. And, for our holidays, I hope it is not like other years and remains hot and sunny, even if it is the third week in August – not the best week for being on holiday here, in my experience.

In fact, if you wanted my advice, holidays in the Northern part of Italy should be taken in July for the hottest, sunniest weather, with June and September cooler (but still hot) but more risky for rainy days. August, around the 15th, is almost guaranteed rain!

But I did notice that, in the message I put at the start, I was mentioned first. I also realised that he is, really, really looking forward to going away with the dogs (and me).

He has an idea for Tuscany (this is NOT the holiday). The problem is the dogs (or the babies, as you will). His parents place means that we sleep in two very small rooms and he is concerned because they go to bed early (and are up early – which all sounds good to me) but (and I more than agree with him) it’s not so easy with the dogs. The flat, which he shares with his brother, is currently being used by some cousin or something.

I don’t know how many times I have to say that I was only joking (even if the reality was that I was only half-joking). His plan is that he goes down on the Friday and I follow Saturday afternoon. Then I stay Saturday night and I (or, maybe we) come back on Sunday.

“I want you to come to C”, he says. And I really think he does. And I don’t want to take the dogs to his parents. at least, not until they know me better or something. Gentle introductions are required here, I think. Even if they will never know who I really am and are unlikely to with the language barrier.

However, he is thinking of doing this in the next couple of weeks. Let’s see. With him, I can’t get too excited lest it doesn’t happen. His mind is still unfathomable to me. I know he thinks about things a lot but what actually goes on in his head is just impossible and I can’t follow his logic (if there is any) (and that’s after my advice to Lola earlier this afternoon hahahaha).

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We expect things to work and we certainly take things for granted. Yesterday, in my head, I was looking forward to the shower I was going to have.

Except after nearly three hours, the three men went away, leaving me with a brand, spanking, new boiler …………. which didn’t work!

Another guy came today to fix it. It took him a while but he has done it. It was a blockage!!  As I said to someone at work, today.  I had one guy to carry things, one guy to fit the boiler and one guy to watch them do it.  Now, I could add – and one guy to make it actually work!

So I went to lie down for a bit and then I heard the sound of someone coming in. It was my cleaner guy. Since he had to leave early yesterday (no water) he was going to add hours next Wednesday. Instead, he chose to come and do the ironing today.

So, tonight I have a long, hot shower AND I have all my shirts ironed.

Cool, if you see what I mean.

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Today, I was recounting the story of how F & I met. The girl, A, thought it was a lovely story. Of course, my blog allows me to recount the circumstances in more detail than I would ever remember and for which I am grateful. She also wanted to know how it was to be gay; when did I know?; what about girls?, etc. I explained. I have nothing to hide. She was a bit shocked but then, in this country, there is an unawareness about it all that still surprises me. I wondered if this is what it is like in most of the world. I am truly grateful that I was born and brought up in the UK.

But back to the blog. I’m not sure that I always say all of the really important things but I think I was, mostly, faithful with my recounting the story, since it was written at the time. It makes me wonder, if, in a few years time, some of the essence of the whole thing will be gone from the blog. It’s not really a diary, is it? It’s more a collection of random thoughts and random happenings in my life. Some things are deliberately missed (for various reasons); some things omitted by accident.

The boiler is being fitted; A dictionary that may help with training

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Well, they’re here. There are three of them to fit a small boiler! Not sure why so many. Maybe it’s ‘cos siamo in Italia?

At least it’s being done although I think that if I’d not chased, I would still be at work now, waiting for the call. Anyway, the important thing is that there’ll be hot water for a shower tonight!

And, I’ve seen this book. S, my colleague brought it in this morning. It’s a ‘dictionary’ – or, at least, that’s what it’s called. From and to Italian………..

and……………

cane! Yes, dog. Apparently there’s also one for cats and one for something else. I intend to go and get one for F. I know he will love it! From what I can understand of it it’s really quite funny (and has serious points as well). It covers the dog’s behaviour and why and, I think, I hope, how to stop it if it’s not good. I intend to buy it this evening, assuming the men have finished here, which is almost certain to be before the bookshop closes.

S has bought it to try and train her dog – or, rather, stop it from barking at cyclists and cars and stop it doing some other stuff but, maybe, we’ll find some hints as to how to stop Dino licking (everything). Other than that, he’s almost perfect.

Well, I say that. There was the other evening when he growled at F and then tried to bite me. Not that he did bite me as he realised he should not but his jaws were round my wrist.

Since then we’ve been having some rather serious training to ensure that he knows that, in reality, he is the bottom of the pack and not, as he might have thought for a moment there, near or at the top!

The training includes the going in and out of everywhere last and not first. Still, after a week of this he has got the idea and now waits for everyone to go through before he comes. It’s a start, anyway.

Of course, as with any teenager, he’s only flexing his muscles a bit but it has to be stopped anyway.

We’ll see if the book can help with the training. Especially, ahem, with the training of F as, actually, it’s the things F does that allows Dino the thought that, maybe, just maybe, he may not be the bottom of the pack!

Murphy’s or some other law

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The water starts to warm up. Of course it does! Today, after almost 2 weeks of not doing that, today, of all days, it starts to work!

What’s it called? Murphy’s Law? Or is that the one that says ‘what can go wrong will go wrong’? I am, of course referring to the law that says, at the moment you have decided/or are about to do something to fix something – it starts working again!

Today, apparently, is the day that the ‘technico’ comes to fit a new boiler. This is after almost two weeks of it being broken and me going round to F’s place for showers. And I’m getting fed up with it. I like my shower and I (yes, I’m aware that this sounds quite crazy) don’t feel clean enough! This after going round to someone to whom cleanliness is the reason for living!

I had asked the girl what time they were coming. Apparently, she didn’t know. I explained that it would take me one hour to return home from work. She said OK, she would ensure they rang me to give enough time and that, if I hadn’t heard from them by mid-day, I should give her a call.

It’s now 10.30. I haven’t heard yet. The phone is silent. I have not missed a call. I expect that I’ll be phoning her in an hour and a half. The reason that I hadn’t heard from the fat bloke (sorry – technico) before was that he had forgotten. I’m expecting him to have forgotten this fitting of a boiler too – or, if he’s not forgotten, to have found that he doesn’t have all the parts, or some other excuse.

Which means, probably, it won’t get fitted today. Which means, also, the hot water won’t be working tonight and so being squeaky clean will have to wait for another day.

Damn!

The games of a relationship – part one – jealousy

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Relationships are bloody difficult, for everyone, it seems.

A, on a ‘break’ from Fr, and I went to this cocktail thing last night. The wine was good. The food was good. It was ‘finger food’, A’s new craze right now. He’s doing us Sunday lunch this weekend – which will be finger food.

Fr phoned him several times. He was annoyed.

“She shouldn’t be phoning me because we have agreed to meet at 9.15″, he moans to me. He doesn’t answer her calls.

As we’re walking away from the cocktail do to his car, he tries to phone her.

“She’s switched off her phone”, he moans further.

I ask where they were going to go. He says just ‘for a walking’ near to her place. I suggest that he goes to her flat anyway – the risk being that she doesn’t answer the door. I also suggest that he doesn’t say he was in the swimming-pool all the time as, if he gets to see her, she will smell the alcohol on his breath. I suggest, instead, that he blames me (as, anyway, she blames me for his drinking too much).

I tell him that he should stop playing games with her. Her phoning and he not answering. Then him phoning and she not having her phone on. He, of course, denies playing games, as, probably, would she. But, the reality is that, as in any other relationship, he (and her, probably) is playing a game. We all do it to a greater or lesser degree.

I don’t know whether he went round or not. I will email him now.

And then, this morning, S, my colleague, was upset. Upset because of her husband who she had seen, sitting at a café with other people. One of these people was a woman who, some time in the past, he may have had an affair with – perhaps – maybe. And she rang him and so they had a fight. So she wanted advice (but, as is normal, didn’t really want advice at all but to be told that what she planned was the right thing). She’s going to change her route because then she doesn’t see it – but, of course, that doesn’t mean it goes away. Her husband, of course, denies everything. She then spoke about, maybe, she should start going out with her friends. It’s more game. I suggested that she didn’t as going out with her friends meant that she would be doing it to try and make her husband jealous and if it didn’t work, then where would she be?

And so, interrupted by colleagues, she has been telling me the story over the last ‘x’ years. And why it all happened and asking what I thought. And I feel sorry for her as I do for A and I wish I could make it better for them but I can’t. But I did try to explain to her that I, too, have these feelings of jealousy – it’s just that I know what they are and I force myself to act in a proper way and not give in to them.

My example was this week. F texted me to say that he was going out with a friend. Of course, my immediate reaction is – who, what, why, where????? And what relationship do you have with them? Or have had with them?

I do none of that. I know that for what it is. And I prefer that he feels free enough to tell me this much. Later, on the phone, he said that he did not stay with them and went out for dinner on his own. It was complicated and he will explain it to me after; later; apparently.

And that’s OK. Maybe I will mention it or maybe not. In any event I have to explain the other night so that he knows I am not angry with him. Maybe it will come out then. Maybe I should explain that I have the feelings but don’t act on them. Maybe. Perhaps. Or not, of course.

A asked me when will we move in together. I said not now. Not yet. Maybe never. He didn’t understand. I said I would wait for F to decide. He thinks I’m crazy and that I should push. I know that I should not. When or if it is right, it will happen. F complains that his flat is too small. It will come – in time. There is time (or, at least, one has to hope for time). And, anyway, if there is no time, then there is little to be done about that.

In the meantime, I am, again, like a rabbit in car headlights. The fear of everything is causing me to freeze; to do nothing and, therefore, making everything far worse. However, today I did some stuff. And some stuff is better than the ‘nothing’ I had been doing until now.

At least, now, finally, the weather is more like summer. High twenties already and set to get higher with almost clear blue skies.

Even if my life is not perfect, I love it still. F returns tonight and I shall pick him up – he asks if the ‘babies’ will be there too. I say maybe. And, as he flies into Terminal 2, which is smaller, maybe I will take them. I know that Dino would love it. And so would F. And, as long as F and my dogs are happy, then that is all that matters.

And, whilst I may play some sort of game with our relationship, it’s not the one of A nor S nor their respective partners and I will not let the jealousy thing become the thing that controls me and takes me over. Each time it happens I will make it stop in my head.

It’s too nice a day to have problems like that.