don’t get weird

Me and my fiance (my fiancé and I? I dunno, it’s hot out here so sue me – please don’t I’m poor)

Where the hell was I…

Me and my fiancé have a lot in common, and not in common. I don’t mean in the way that our hobbies match up and our likes and dislikes (for one, he doesn’t like strawberries… who doesn’t like strawberries?) but that part of us that actually matters – to be deep, our souls, to be oh my god I can’t swim get me out of the deep end, I mean our personalities match. Souls get along, personalities, match, whichever – we’re good.

here we are standing in the garden and taking a photo because we haven’t been exciting lately

It means that we do that annoying stuff that the twins did in class. Did you have those twins? The ones who could look at each other and grin because they knew there was going to be an inside joke later, or, that there already was an inside joke and you were somehow it… yeah, that. That stupid grin wearing, nodding to each other, finishing each other’s sentences kinda get each other.

One way is that we’re both socially anxious. I can’t say that we don’t get people, or necessarily dislike people, I mean we get and like each other, right? But most people, eeeeeeh, we’re just not quite there. We say weird shit or I end up becoming incredibly clumsy when half an hour ago on my own I could have been walking a tightrope, he suddenly thinks everyone is out to get him – including the twelve-year-old girl cradling a dog behind us. It gets weird.

Which is why I love that we have ripped off our new pep talk from a TV show we used to watch (People of Earth – if you were wondering).

Don’t Get Weird

I love it. Got an important meeting? Don’t get weird. Need to make a phone call and not fuck up? Don’t get weird. Dentist appointment and an urge to lick their finger? DON’T GET WEIRD.

Ahaha, I’m joking with that last one? Who does that… ah ha ha ha… ahem.

I know there will be some people who say to embrace your weird, and, baby cakes, I have done that to hell and back. I don’t brag about being weird, or odd, or (my personal most hated favourite) ooooh I’m caaaraaazzzyyyy. I get told it, I nod, I deal with it. I get that I can be kinda almost always a bit weird.

So, saying don’t get weird to each other because some big/small deal – it’s social anxiety, stepping in the garden can be hard. A neighbour might be there and heaven forbid they say hello! What do you do if they do that?! Ahaha, I’m kidding, I know this one. You hiss and skulk back inside. But, yes, saying don’t get weird is comforting. It’s almost a nod to it. It’s an I get it, but you got this, and I love it.

I mean, we also at times will say “You’re a brave little soldier… just too precious for this world!” when we’d get in super bad head about something. It makes us laugh, immediately. If you watch Supernatural you’ll already know where it’s from, if not… who am I kidding, I’m linking this as much for me as I am for you!

You know, I have no idea why I wrote this. It made me smile though, and what’s wrong with a little joy from this and that, eh? Maybe one day in ten years (when we’ve long forgotten saying don’t get weird) I’ll read this, wake him up with some shoddy made breakfast in bed, give him a kiss and say, baby, let’s get weird.

*awkward wink*

As always, I hope you are well – whoever you are. Wait, who are you? Get off my lawn!

Ahahahah

Arbie x