WARNING: This post will make you gag, jealous, probably throw up a little bit in your mouth, go "awww" and "ooooh", will make your heart melt and may make you teary eyed. You have been warned.
I was never popular with boys growing up. Never. I had a tendency to be awkward. Plus, I was chubby and I had those stellar 1990s glasses that apparently only came in one style and three colors. When I got older, I was became even more awkward and seemed to go through puberty overnight, meaning I suddenly got hips, curves, and breasts. Sixth grade boys are mean when they don't understand something.
I was a Senior in high school before I got my first boyfriend. Jesse was a complete sweetheart and I will adore him forever. Throughout college I dated briefly but my longest relationship never went past 4 months. I, like most girls, dreamt of a Prince Charming, a Knight in Shining Armor, a Hero...a version of Ryan Gosling from The Notebook or Zach Morris from Saved by the Bell or Channing Tatum in The Vow. I wanted The Perfect Man despite what reality and life had taught me, he did not exist.
My mom claims that I told her three different times that a guy/boyfriend was "The One": Mike, Greg and Jason. Mike to this day is one of my best guy friends. I love him to death and I believe it is my friendly love for him and our friendship that always made me wish for me. I had heard the numerous stories of friends falling in love, of Harry and Sally making it work, of Chandler and Monica, and felt that that HAD to be Mike and me. Thank God it wasn't. Greg and I lasted two, maybe three months, before we broke up. He grew up in NJ and I in ND. We came from two different worlds, it never would have worked. I have nothing to say about Jason other than it wasn't love, it was a codependent. It was unhealthy. And that's all I have to say about that.
When I first met Matt, I had no make-up on. I have no idea whether or not I had showered that day but I'm assuming not since I wasn't done up. He works with my dad and I had taken my son to visit that day. I remember shaking his hand, looking him directly in the eyes, and thinking, "This man is beautiful." His smile was gorgeous. I don't remember what he was wearing other than a Yankees' cap but I remember his smile and that everything else melted away. It was the end of March. And that was the beginning of the end.
We officially began dating on May 22 and on June 1 I fell in love with him. I talked constantly with my best friend about him, texting her after our third date: Write down this date so that when you give your Maid of Honor speech you can say this is the day I knew I was going to marry this man. Honestly, he seemed too good to be true. He was sweet, he was beyond handsome, he had an actual grown-up job, was mature...his only flaw was his choice of sports teams. I kept waiting for the bad news, I kept waiting for him to dump me, for him to hear something about me that was simply too much.
I told him about my sordid past and he didn't care, his exact response: "I liked you before and this doesn't change anything." I took my time introducing him to my son but when I did, I kept waiting for it too be to much. Matt doesn't have any kids, no experiences with kids, so when my son would throw tantrums I fully expected him to bail. I wouldn't have judged him, I would not have thought less of him. It's a lot to handle for anyone but he did not blink twice. He just smiled and he stayed.
We were two months into our relationship when I met his family-his parents, his brother, his grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins. It was a lot but by this time he had met almost all of my family, too. It was the summer so between vacations and reunions, it was natural for him to meet them. It was also during our second month together that we somehow got to talking about our future and we decided that we both knew we were meant for each other. I have no clue how it originally came up but it was natural, I know that.
On the 22 of November, we will celebrate six months together. It's funny how much your life can change in six months. Its hard to think of my life without Matthew. It is regular routine for us to put our son to bed every night. Everyday after work he comes over and we talk about our day. It is normal, it is comfortable. It is perfect.
It is hard to explain and to put into words what I feel when I with him. Everyday I somehow seem to fall more in love with him. I love everything about him. He drives me nuts but I love him. I watch him with my son and I literally feel my heart swell. I lay beside him, with his arm wrapped around me, and I know that I was somehow made to fit into that spot. I turn to smile at him and find him already staring lovingly at me. I feel at peace when I am with him, I feel as if a part of me is missing when he's not here. He makes me a better woman, a better mother, a better human being.
So you're gagging aren't you? You ready to puke, if you haven't already. Well, its not all goopy and gooey. We often miscommunicate and I find myself getting mad at him for no reasons. Early in our relationship, I would get mad at him for no reason, now I think its because I was trying to push him away to see if he really would stick around. He also hasn't doesn't have a lot of experience in relationships so he does or doesn't do a lot of things that drive me CRAZY...like he doesn't open doors for me or automatically help me up and he has NO CLUE how to take off my bra. Also, he never makes plans for us. Never. Just once I want him to say, "Okay, we're having date night tonight. I got a babysitter, I've made plans. It's a surprise, just make sure you dress up." But nooooooooooo I always have to make the plans. He also has very limited movie knowledge, which is tragic for me, a movie buff; it also means he doesn't get a lot of my jokes or references so I'm not recognized as being as hysterically funny as I really am. Additionally, he doesn't own grown up clothes. Well, that's not true, as he recently purchased some since I MADE HIM but until that point he only wore American Eagle shirts. He's 26 years old wearing AE. WTH. I told him since he wasn't in High School anymore he couldn't shop there.
And finally...so you know that he's not always to blame...I have a tendency to, um, whisper in my pants when we sleep together. I don't know what it is but I seem to always do it when we sleep together, which isn't often. The first time we slept together, I woke myself up. That's right, I woke myself up FARTING. That's how loud it was. I couldn't believe it. I didn't move an inch, afraid it would wake him up. Thank God he is such a loud snorer. Regardless, I do this nearly every time we are in bed together. I don't know if its because I'm sleeping so soundly or my body is trying to humiliate me but it happens. So far, he hasn't said anything and I'm damn sure I'm not going to bring it up, at least not until our 50th wedding anniversary. The last time, we were spooning...I literally farted ON him. I'm so disgusting sometimes.
BUT whatever the reason, I have been lucky enough to find my soulmate, my Mr. Darcy, my Rhett Butler. And ladies, he may not be perfect but he's pretty damn close. Prove it you say? Fine. Here's the text he sent me this morning: You make me happier than I ever thought I could be. I couldn't ask for a more perfect girlfriend. Every day I find myself more in love with you and I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know exactly how special you are to me. I love you forever Beautiful.
See? I told you :)
No comments:
Post a Comment