The Boy: You’re the love of my life. Apple of my eye. Icing on my cake. PF Flyers on my Benny ‘The Jet’ Rodriguez.
Shaba: I love pretzels
The Boy: I love you more than pretzels do. I can be a better provider than pretzels. A better father. I don’t care if pretzels can offer reduction in hunger. I offer stability, Shaba
Shaba: But are you twisty and covered in salty goodness?
Shaba: So what did you do last night?
The Boy: Read an article on nuclear fusion and went to bed
(He read this because he WANTED to. Shock. And. Awe.)
Sent via gchat…
The Boy: Llooovvvin you
The Boy: is easy cuz you’re beautiful
Now, less you start to believe that The Boy is some sort of perfect boyfriend cyborg, he has his flaws. We have disagreements. We’ve argued. We’re human, so naturally these events occur. I don’t understand why he gets upset when I call him an hour and a half after I said I would, he doesn’t understand why I can’t just be considerate and pick up the phone.* We have flaws. Our relationship is not picture perfect, but it is wonderful, all of its hiccups included with.
Tonight, I opened my door to a flower delivery and a note, “Over 100 lilies for the over 100 reasons I’ve fallen in love with you. I’m sorry for being a jerk lately.”
He also spent the last few days helping me with my finance final.
So, ok. Maybe he is a cyborg
But I love him.
*I’m selfish. I tend to operate on a “what’s good for me” wavelength, which I know, is not the best way to handle a relationship. This whole “other people’s feelings matter” stuff is a new, scary place for a Type A like me.
PS-He’s been a better blogger lately. Go check him out!
