Whenever I hear other people's love stories they always possess some characteristic I can't relate to.
"Oh I knew immediately. From the first moment I saw him I knew I was going to marry him."
And they expect everyone to subscribe to their same philosophy.
Well color me clueless but......how the hell did you know anything before you really knew anything?
My current love story is far less epic romance and far more pragmatic simplicity.
The other day he sent me a cute cat picture, relating to a joke we experienced the other night together, on a day that was horrafable and the moment I opened the text I thought, I love you.
Sometimes love stories don't involve poetry under the stars and I've decided that's actually fine by me.
Being some guys goddess is a lot of freakin' expectation and I'm really not up to standing on that pedestal in five inch stilettos just so he can look to me to guide him through his walkabout crisis.
My latest blog, which was the first time I felt genuinely compelled to write in months, caused such a controversy that people I didn't even know were my Facebook friends were commenting on it.
I. Love. Ruffling. People's. Feathers.
Who knew I was so damn important?
"Did you read my blog?" I asked my lover.
"No," he casually replied.
"Do you want to?" I asked expectantly.
"Naw," he answered.
And while my ego thought it should be offended, my heart was relieved and moved.
The last several assholes I "fell" for (meaning I was "emotionally manipulated by") were ob-se-ssed with my writing.
In fact, BOTH of them used it as a way to keep tabs on me, to follow my thoughts when they couldn't see me day to day and the fact that both of these men were married while doing so is really beside the perverse point.
My writing stirs something in people.
I'm no fucking genius.
But I piss people off and I inspire people and rarely is it some grey, noncommittal reaction that I instill.
You either love me or you hate me and the fact I leave nothing out and am entirely uncensored either intrigues you or disgusts you.
My blog nearly got me fired, nearly landed me a lead in a movie, allowed my lost love to keep tabs on me and became so overwhelming I stopped knowing what to write.
So is it really so surprising that when my current heartthrob casually showed little to no interest in something that friends and enemies have turned crimson over I almost instantaneously fell in love?
This kid is not like every other asshole looking to me to save him.
He's just some random guy who happens to be an overwhelmingly amazing fit for my overwhelmingly intense personality.
I'm not perfect in his eyes.
And it is so nice to be loved by someone who doesn't delude himself into believing I'm anything more than a passionate, crazy woman.
Even if he lacks the cojones to say it.
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