I've called this immediate blog posting for a very important reason.

It's leaked out of me.

Every Sunday I write Jeff a letter.

They are friendly, but nothing lovey dovey.

Until this one.

The problem is I didn't even know I wrote what I wrote until I read it after I sent it. Dear Elder sends you the letter in a printable form after you send it.

Usually I read over the letter before I click the send button, but I forgot this time, and reading it over in my hotmail for the funny mispellings I might have dropped in so I could laugh at myself and get over it.

It was all good until I came to one sentence. I challenge you to find the slip.

"I got my hair cut. . . Off. . . Short. . . JK LOL! Ha ha! It's actually just past my shoulders and awesome, but I'm afraid of looking different when you guys come home for some reason. Like I won't be me anymore, but that's totally not even true so I should get over it. Change is hard though! I don't know, it's weird. I love my hair but hate that it makes me look different, but I want to keep it because I love it. So don't judge me when you come home and see my hair different. I'M STILL THE SAME NIKKI! Ha ha! Plus, I love it and would never let it go any shorter in fact I want it a little longer. No worries about that. I did remember randomly as I was sitting there getting my hair cut your letter almost a year ago that told me I could do whatever with my hair until a year after you were out. . . I don't know if you remember that. You were in the MTC still. ;) Still a greenie, baby Missionary. Ha ha! Look at me! Talking about my hair with my guy. I need something else to talk about."

I called him MY GUY!

Which, let's face it, he is definitely my guy, but that's beside the point.

The point is I've tried so hard to bottle up my obvious feelings for him that my cup runneth over. . . Literally!

I've been so preoccupied with not letting him be distracted by me. It's been a year. Something's got to give.

I will swallow this up and move on, because it wasn't that big of a deal.

He knows it, I know it, who doesn't know it?

I will move on though, because dwelling on it will make it worse.

And if he brings it up in his next letter. . . 

Well, that's for another post.

To add a side note, this could be made worse by the arrival of Valentine's Day. I actually can't wait until I can walk into the grocery store without seeing my favorite white calla lilies staring at me with hearts and pink balloons floating around.