She said she loves me like fireworks

I realized how much I miss being in love. You know, the goofy grin plastered on your face all the time, how you have the butterflies in the stomach when you merely think of the person, how you always think about them even when you really ought to be focusing on more important things. How a simple call or text from them shoots you to the moon. I miss that a lot. And what is worse is remembering yourself in love with particular people (because really, was it all that long ago? no not at all) and for someone like me, who falls really hard really fast, the memories are abundant. And I remember the details. Like the first thing I baked for someone, and how they reacted. The first time I may or may not have sneakily connived them into making out. (the fact that I had to do that ought to have been a red flag- warning, if you have to do all the work, he is NOT it). The first time I woke up next to them and couldn't even express how happy that made me, despite not really having slept well at all. Its that sort of stuff that gets me every time. And so I wait (not very patiently) for the next time it happens. And hope hope hope its the last time. That I can find the person that waking up next to every single day seems like the only important thing in life. That guy. Who knows. 

In other news, my heart is useless. The actual organ. Tuesday night, as I was asleep, it freaked out again. Boo to that. Woke me right up. But luckily calmed down so no ER. Thank heavens. But it is still worrisome. Like what the heck triggers my heart to start jackhammering? The Dr in Boston was good, have to get records released and copied and sent to her, and have an echocardiogram next Tuesday (because she thought the whole heart thing was suspicious too) and she put me on a new med that is supposed to be really good for inflammation of the lining of lungs and heart and such. So I'm hopeful. 

Driving up to Buffalo with Mom today to sort out some nasty business with her siblings. My stupid aunt (as in married into the fam) gave away my grandmother's sofa that was being stored in their basement, and which had been promised to my grandmother's sister. What is worse is that 1) she gave it away BEFORE my grandmother passed, and way before she had even had the stroke, meaning she basically just didn't ask permission (because mind you, my aunt hadn't spoken to her since like March). 2) she gave it to her mother, who is an uber bitch that hates our family so much, she didn't even attend her own daughters wedding to my uncle because she refused to associate with us. 3) my uncle didn't say a damn thing about it. The sofa certainly didn't meander up the cellar stairs and take a walk to her mother's house. It had to have been moved. In what part of his mind was this ok? ugh. So figuring that out. 

fin.