I am planning very carefully. The activities should occupy, but not overwhelm him. He needs to have a choice, but needs to be guided. I have put together a little plan. A calendar of choices.
It's a bit rough, but maybe that serves the purpose best. I don't want to dictate what we do each day as the name of the game is not "suffocate the man" but to always give him something to do. And if that something turns out to be boring than there has to be something else to do.
I have ideas for weekends and for weekdays; obviously there is more time in a weekend than on weekdays. We have more room to move, to travel, to do stuff over weekends. But more space to fill, too.
And if he just wants to stay home for an evening and play with the laptop, that's also fine, of course.
I am very curious about what will happen. No! I am excited. I am becoming excited. I wonder what he will think. I did tell him a few weeks ago about the start date. All he had said was that I need to set up a date and he just needs a bit of a warning before it happens. So I am thinking, going away for a long weekend with his friends (most of whom are crazy smokers) is a perfect way to say goodbye too... you know what.
I somehow need to conceal my excitement. I love to plan. I love to create surprises. For a highly skilled MC (as S.'s brother once called me), Master of Ceremony, as myself this is the perfect project.
Can't wait.
Could wait?
No!
Ooohh!!!
A few more days to go. The ceremony is about to start. The crazy, awful, funny, nerve-wrecking, upsetting, blissful, irritable days. Months. Years. Let them begin.
That urge I will not be able balance out, no matter how hard I will try.
Travel?
Humour!
Sports?
Endless sex?
Good food?
Jumping up and down?
More sleep?
Less sleep?
Games?
What shall it be?
All of the above?
Yes!
*****
Anxious. Excited. Curious. Tense. Overwhelmed.
Waiting.
Waiting is.
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