Back from Italy

"Just" (as in, two hours ago) finished unpacking my not so heavy suitcase (and forgot to pack the only important thing I had to take with me back to Brighton..crumbs).
Just back from this lovely, lovely, strange but lovely Italian holiday.

First days at home: enjoying the comfort of my bed, of my silent nice room, of the green field and mountains around me, of the kitchen, clean and tidy, of the bathroom, and the comfortable shower, of everything, really.

Then, Wednesday. Morning shopping with mum, a shower, lunch and getting changed, and at the airport so early, everything so exciting and strange, and waiting for my piccolino at the arrivals, and seeing him, and being in the car, going to Bergamo, holding hands, showing him around, then having a quiet dinner together, and spending some time on the bed in Brother Genius's room, watching tv, talking, cuddling.
Thursday, and a nice walk in a medieval town, taking pictures, and then after lunch, to the national park of rock engravings, more pictures, more talking, more of this beautiful feeling; then going to the lake, a few pictures and an icecream. And in the evening, the band. Wow. Playing, playing so much, and so well, feeling like I have never left, music running through my veins.
On Friday morning we are alone, and we go to the lake in my town, we walk, we talk a real lot, we ask a couple to take a picture of us, time flies and it's the afternoon, and Mantova, and hot and crowded and icecream and pictures and sleeping in the car on the journey to and back, and having a delicious dinner and a super-relaxing evening cuddling in my room, talking, laughing, feeling so well.
Finally, Saturday morning, which was this morning, a quiet walk in my town, just going around, stopping for another icecream, and sharing the last Italian lunch, before a quick packing and leaving almost in a hurry, everyone nervous, and tired, and wondering what awaited us in Brighton.
Nodding off in the plane, his hand holding mine, my head on his shoulder, and then talking on the bus, and finally planning to meet tomorrow morning.

What a wonderful time together. What a lovely holiday. What an incredible need to sleep!
So, I am uploading some pixies on Facebook...see you there.

My piccolino - always

Long time, no update...
So, for the record...

Ian.
Wonderful, beautiful, sweet, unbelievable love of mine.
Hugging on a bench in front of the sea in Eastbourne, whispering in my ear "I love you", and asking me if I am happy, "never been happier"; and later at lunch, looking at me and saying "I'm happy", with such strength, giving me such thrills, all throughout the day.
Texting such sweet, breathtaking texts before leaving for Edinburgh, calling me almost every evening, sending me a beautiful text that put a smile on my face I couldn't wipe for the rest of the day.
In March, reassuring me that no, he won't break up for stupid reasons again.
And being cuddly, sweet, holding me tight, tight, tight.
On his birthday night, dinner in my room, the look on his face, and stopping me on my way to the kitchen to hug me, kiss me, thanking me for making his birthday special.
Spending a Saturday in Oxford, hand in hand, in the thin rain (no wind in Oxford, beautiful).
After the dinner with his parents, a text, to say how lovely I looked.
And telling me that he wants to make me happy, "I want to give you good things".
Texting that he is "thinking of you*". Night texts, "Buonanotte piccolina mia".
And next week, I am leaving for a week's holiday in Italy, on Saturday. On Wednesday, he is coming along. For two and a half days.
I am so happy, so happy, so happy.

And now, a quiet Saturday afternoon, preparing for the week ahead (lots of teaching, hopefully a couple of runs, the sun is shining), my piccolino is back from Scotland tomorrow, and I love him so much.

I love him so much.