lust but not least

Yesterday Minnie stayed for the night.

I like having her home, when we're both happy it's like having a pajama party, we laugh until we snort, have hot chocolate and talk about men, sex and life till we fall asleep.
When one of us is blue or angry, spending the night together is our way to run for cover. To cling to a life belt made of chamomile and fluffy comforters.

This time was of the second kind. She had a fight with her kinda boyfriend, the Horse Whisperer I'll call him, and she called me asking for company, trying not to think about what a rough moron he's been and about his clumsy manners that really piss her off.
We went out for dinner and talked about it a lot. She talked. I listened. There wasn't much to say, it looked she'd made up her mind. Looked she finally saw that he's not enough for her. Not sensitive enough, not funny enough, not even polite enough. So I think she'll call it quits.

Isn't it a good sensation, I thought? I mean, being in control. Having the last word, somehow.
Leaving someone hurts us - oh, it does - even if less than being left. It doesn't change the fact that we end up being alone (which is not so fun), but it makes us feel stronger at first. Or so I thought because it made ME feel stronger, in the past. Now I understand that, in my case, it was a misleading sense of power and strenght. Don't get me wrong, it's good to make the right decision, to be brave and choose and all that stuff. You know, better alone that in ill company.
But for me, for my obsession of being in control, my sheer terror of letting someone else taking the helm, well... it wasn't healthy at all. Learning to let myself go has been the most precious lesson I learnt from loving Mr.Charms.

He made me feel home, safe and sound in his arms' nest and I'm very grateful because now I know what I'm looking for in a man. Thanks to his reassuring attitude I learned to be a sweeter person, a cosy home for a man to come back. I finally got the point that I had no real need to be in control, because real life cannot be controlled or stopped. In good and bad. See what a gift our story gave me? As the saying goes, it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good.

Oh, this doesn't mean that in the end he's not been a real asshole who'd deserve to be eaten by an army of red ants.. Gosh, it would be great, uh? I'll post a picture of that when it happens.. LOL..