Had horrific, really horrific nightmares last night, which wasn't a good thing.
Kate has argued where Kate usually argues, and we can't find him. Cue much panicking from me and his friend, sudden statements of "I think I'm falling in love with him, oh fuck" from one or both of us, etcetera.
As if that wasn't enough, came online, read LJ, further panic, rah. I should point out that I'm damn good at extrapolating. Give me a thought, I run with it - yes, it's the only running I ever do. ~g~ Still though. Doesn't help.
Then all the stuff from last night came back, further, well, not panic, but disquiet. I had a discussion about it this morning with someone I've not really spoken to before, but we didn't really get anywhere, which, given who it was, isn't terribly surprising.
And, oh, LJ, blah, butterfly*, blah, ouch, blah, not in love, blah.
Wanted to keep waking up as Steve because his immediate response when waking up is always to cuddle closer to whoever he's with, and that would have been nice. Could I? Could I, heck. I love Kate and normally I'm fine with being Kate, but it was a hell of a night, and those nightmares...~shudder~
So here I am looking at a picture of some guy called Adrian and wondering why exactly I'm going to London tomorrow and wishing there was somewhere more convenient I could have gone, like the Outer Hebrides, where I could have avoided people and memories and stuff.
* Yes, I know. Reach for a bucket. I know. It could have been worse, it could have been Crazy Town.