The other day I was thinking about how 9 months ago I was off f’ing like a bunny, and now my ideal Friday night is watching The Tudors and spooning with my boyfriend. We just started season two – it’s a fantastic show. I highly recommend it.
I really do love being in a relationship… I love being a girlfriend. These days, the idea of getting dressed up and going to some bar until 3am just seems… exhausting. Does that make me boring? Maybe a little. But these days I find more pleasure in going grocery shopping together, taking his dog for a walk, or discussing our latest crafting ideas. Sure, we still have our problems. Last week I rushed over to his place after a shitty day at work, only to discover he “forgot” I was coming over, so he went to confession. I don’t know if I was more upset about the fact that that he forgot, or that he was at church instead of being with me. “What the f’ do you even need to confess about, we haven’t even had sex in over a week!?” I screamed into the phone, before turning completely psycho and demanding he return home before I leave and never come back. Then I hung up on him. He hates that.
For a minute I meant it, too. I even packed a bag. Took my toothbrush, some clothes that were there, my tampons and hair straightener. I even took all the little cards I had given him over the past 5 months. Then I felt bad about the mementos and put them in a pile in the middle of the kitchen counter. The phone rang. He said he’d be home soon. I quickly put everything back, including the notes. I felt foolish, but we eventually made up.
Sometimes I forget that he is almost 11 years older than me, and that decade of dating experience he has on me means that he’s already seen all the tricks, and can see through my bullshit and childishness faster than other people I’ve dated. That experience also means that the man is an excellent spooner, and you know what they say – spooning’s the new black.