The Sluffington Post, cycle 85, part 2

Thank goodness for the sloughing of my uterine lining and the accompanying hormonal fluctuation that on this particular evening has rendered me completely unsentimental to the perfect gushiness of my romantic relationship.

Finally, I have cleared my cell phone’s inbox of all the adorable text messages that I had previously locked. The hyperbolic compliments and the heartfelt mush that have been accessible little reminders of the magnitude of Kevin’s love for me are no more… and I’m glad! And I believe I will be even when cycle 85 (or so) has ended and I’ve returned to my typical, even-keel nature. It’s stupid to cling to text messages, typed up in a few short moments, as if they are some kind of proof of the way things are.

I’ve actually thought before, that if my phone is ever lost by me and found by a stranger, that stranger could read those locked texts and know that I am loved. (For a similar reason, my mom is called Mum in my contacts. Figure I’ll trick ‘im into thinking I’m British.) But I don’t actually care what the hypothetical stranger thinks; I’ve treasured those texts because they remind me that I’m loved. How ridiculous.

Really, the locked texts that have crowded my inbox for too long probably do more to diminish our relationship in my mind than anything else. I know Kevin loves me. He loves me every day by being patient, forgiving, honest, silly, humble, hard-working, grateful, faithful, encouraging, whatever—and he is going to keep on loving me and he is going to keep on sending me text messages that will speed up my heart. I’ll look forward now to the ones to come, not back. I’ll look forward.

…my phone feels lighter.

The Sluffington Post, cycle 85

So, last night, we’re on Pidgin (an instant messenger program) hardly talking and Kevin sends me a link. I try to follow it but it’s a picture on Facebook that I can’t see because I’m not friends with whoever posted it. He tells me then to sign onto hisFacebook to see the picture. Must be pretty good, I think, if it's worth all this. I sign myself out, type in his email and password, and try the link again, expecting a funny picture of one of his buddies or something. To my dismay, when it loads, it’s a picture of two girls.

He tells me the one on the right (the pretty one) says hi to him “all the time” and that she’s “really nice” and that he just looked her up on Facebook to double check her name. He did this, he explains, to avoid any potential awkward moments in which she'd realize that he didn't know her name.

Seriously?! I silently fume, no angry words spewing from my fingertips. (I’ve been cold all day. He hasn’t noticed.)  I had just told him a few days before (with no ulterior motive, only because I felt it and I’m in the business of encouraging the man I love) that I greatly appreciate his loyalty and the way he makes me feel so safe. I told him then that I know he loves me and I know I’d never have any reason to worry about him being unfaithful, which I think is getting rarer in this day and age. My confidence in him was not only about physical faithfulness, but that he'd never even entertain the thought of another woman. How naive! Now he feels guilty for noticing this girl’s cute smile, perfect hair, and big boobs and he figures that showing her to me makes it okay—'cause at least he’s not keeping secrets.

>:-|