It’s the second time that I’m on one of my boyfriend’s floorball practices.
And even though I’m watching a movie, I can’t help but pause it every time he’s running across the field, being all sexy and sportive.
I ate at his place again, with his family. Which I always really enjoy. Everyone’s nice, his dog absolutely adores me, his mom is so sweet and caring, and they are just a quiet happy family. They don’t fight, or yell at each other. It’s just a quite and peaceful dinner.
At my home, the television is almost always on, since we mostly eat during the news. My brother, sister and I aren’t allowed to talk then, since my parents hate that.
Or we’re having one of our rather famous family fights. Yelling at one another. Either it’s my mom fighting with my brother because he’s done something wrong again, or because he didn’t do something he was asked to. Either it’s my mom fighting with my sister, due to various reasons. Or it’s both of my parents, fighting with me. Which always gets a bit out of hand.
So yes, I like being at my boyfriend’s house, with the peace and quiet, but still the cosiness of a family.
The only thing that I don’t like about his home, is the lack of privacy. His house is right next to his neighbour’s house, it’s connected, and the walls are paper thin.
Also, whenever it’s later than half past ten in the evening, his youngest brother often comes and sleeps in his room on the floor, because he shares a room with the other brother, but when his girlfriend spends the night over, the youngest brother doesn’t sleep there.
So yeah, no privacy or barely.
Which is much better at my house, since whenever we’re on my room (which we almost constantly are), everyone knows not to bother me. Especially when my big light is off.
I’m almost constantly up in my room, because there I’m free to do whatever I please. Because there I’m at ease, peaceful. No one bothers me, or at least not often.
They know it’s my personal space. My place. And that I sometimes need to be on my own, that I enjoy it, appreciate it.
Tomorrow night I’ll try and get back to my boyfriend’s place, have dinner there and make his bag for our weekend away together, since he’s got to work during the day.
I’m hoping that I’m allowed to, although I get my exam results tomorrow evening.
I really, truly hope that they are good, but as always, I don’t dare to hope too much.
Because when I’d do so, I could get very disappointed, hurt.
It could ruin our weekend away before it ‘d even begin.
So , let’s hope for the best.