Post-Being Together Blues

I miss being with Timmy. It’s as if everything is duller without him by my side. But I don’t want to write a sad post. Timmy won’t like that. Timmy would rather laugh and make fun of…of…hell, everyone. We practically made fun of every single person we’ve talked about in the last 4 years. So if you know me and/or you know him, there’s a 99% chance your name’s on the list. Don’t worry, our names are on the list, too. And not just once either. You should have heard him laugh whenever I politely asked permission to fart. How could anyone be so rude to somebody he professes to love?

Still, I miss him so much. I’d give everything, do everything, to be with him every day for the rest of our lives.

[Yes. At this point, it’s normal if you gag.]

The better half of April are the best days of my life. Why? Because I spent it eating so much without caring if I gain weight. Nah, that’s not completely true. I worried a bit. Just a bit. *winks at a bee*

Our normal faces, that is, when we don’t try too hard to impress other people.

Bee-ing aside, the real reason April of 2016 is the best time of my life so far was because I got to spend fourteen whole days with my soulmate, two of which are even my birthdays (yes I get two birthdays–Timmy Bee caused the other one to happen–but that deserves a post of its own).

Most of those days I get to spend one-on-one with Timmy. During these times, I wished more than a dozen times for time to stop. We weren’t even doing anything amazing. Just mundane things many couples might take for granted. It doesn’t matter if we’re watching a ‘70s Filipino movie with a few English phrases every 20 minutes. Or waiting for breakfast to be served. Or in a cab while the driver pretends to shoot a Fast and Furious scene. Or when I’m applying sunscreen on him. Or when he’s writing (with an actual pen on paper, mind you; HE HATES THAT) on our bee journal. Or when I’m using lipstick to draw a cock on my cheek after he ate burritos. Or when we keep lying in bed after waking up as he joins me watching YouTube make-up tutorial videos. Or frequent random cuddles. Or dancing to Honeybee by Steam Powered Giraffe in our pajamas. Or when I get a cheek smoochy after taking random selfie videos. Or getting back to our beehive (whichever hotel that happens to be at the time) to cuddle after piggying. Or when we shared a big pint of salted caramel ice cream. Or when we walked down a street with lots of strip clubs. Or when we ate outside because it’s actually a nice weather out then made fun of an obnoxious foreigner two seats across. Or spending birthday dinner at a cozy, romantic, outdoor place with the almost-full moon and cool breeze cooperating to give you a magical night until a rat runs beside your feet. Or when you burp on his face in the middle of a conversation. Or when you rub his tummy after he had watery poop. Or when he gives you a back rub and a shoulder massage after you puked from eating too much. Or when you just talk for hours, being so close to each other, and fall in love all over again.

Damn, I miss him.

He gets a smoochy because he’s a bee. All bees have that privilege. And this was before I got 4 sips of wine and started feeling tipsy. Some bees have those disadvantages.

I don’t want to end this post at such a sad note. So instead I’ll let you watch three clockwork men make a beautiful video out of a beautiful song

right here.


2 thoughts on “Post-Being Together Blues

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