Hospital

I found out this morning I actually have a boyfriend, now. An official title. I've never had a boyfriend before. He told me he loves me, that I make him happy, that I'm pretty, that he's lucky to have me in his life. And this afternoon he found out that his grandfather is refusing traetment at the hospital in favor of home hospice. So the day I got a boyfriend is the day his papa (which warms my heart coming out of his mouth, because papas are a very special thing. I should know. I lost mine in 2005) has decided to go home and die comfortably.

The point is, I love the idea of having a boyfriend. I love being in love with this guy. And I am. I fell for him pretty hard, pretty fast. I love the feeling of importance. I love that he notices little things about me that I wasn't really aware of before. I hated leaving him to go to work today. I hated seeing him hurt. I hated knowing how he felt and not knowing for sure at the same time. And all of a sudden I think I may actually understand the difference between a fuck buddy and a boyfriend. And that's it. The only difference is that wanting to make them as happy as they make you. Maybe this is that mother-children love thing I don't get either. That "i-feel-pain-when-you-feel-pain" feeling. Weird. More about this later.