Tuesday, February 19, 2013

"Are you fucking serious??"

The past year has steadily amazed and intrigued me. Last year, at this time, I was avoiding any kind of pseudo serious relationship by hanging on to a crush that I was aware would never be compatible, even if it were to come together in fumbling attempts at intimacy. (this is in no way a slam against his sexual aptitude, just that there must be something more than physical attraction and a skewed sense of humor to have some semblance of a relationship.) I wasn't truly aware of my complete and total self sabotage until I brazenly laid my confusion out for examination. This was only because I was pushed by a "religious experience" to do so. After receiving a polite refusal of my affection, my heart jumped and I laughed! Then I realized... I shouldn't be this happy at being shot down. But I was. The friendship suffered a bit, and life has taken off for both of us, but he is still my friend, and we just pretend it never happened. I love him extra for that. The only thing that makes sense to me, as to why I was so happy, was that I knew it was wrong. I just wanted something I knew wasn't going to work. If you go in with it going to fall apart, it's not such a shock when it does.

I have moved twice since last year, trying desperately to make each place home, when it could never be. There was nothing wrong with those homes, not entirely. Sissy B's was warm and loving and amazing... but it was her home, not mine. My dad's house was beautiful, spacious and inviting.... but chaos and back biting kept it from being what I needed. Then in with one of my best guy friends... Beta. (Who will, from here on out be known as Scratchy. Because I prefer it, I don't demand it.)

Scratchy didn't care that within one weekend of being here I had rearranged every cupboard in the kitchen, and was writing up a list of things that this apartment needed. (How to single guys live off of such meager stuff?? I don't get it. Why wouldn't you have a mandolin to julienne your cabbage for slaw instead of cutting it by hand?) He just went to the store and got what I needed. It was a bit bumpy in the beginning, as I was the first woman he'd lived with aside from his amazing mom (who's name will be Tiny), so we needed to find a comfortable routine that was compromise as much as it was eye rolling and muttered curses. I will give him a boat load of credit. I am not an easy woman to please, and when I would get pissed at something he said or did, he would try his best to rectify and understand the situation. I do my best not to give him a reason to get mad at me, but when I have, he treats me like a grown up and talks to me about it. Almost all the time I understand his points, apologize and explain my actions, and I do what I can to not let it happen again.

Scratchy has always been a quiet, kind of backwards guy. I've known for quite some time that he's been interested in me, at least sexually, It's hard to spend most of your time with a girl who obsesses about sex as much as a teen aged boy, speaks candidly and openly about personal fetishes and fantasies, and not really want to know if she is as much of a freak as she seems. But he never really made any move to see if he could make it happen. I'd dropped some major hints, but typical to the gender, he missed them. It seemed to take forever but finally it happened.

Friday nights, we stay in, watch tv and hang out together. Occasionally on a Saturday we will go out with a few of his friends to a sports bar. We live a subdued, and boring social life. The most exciting thing I have going on in my life is when I get him to try a new recipe (I am a pintrest junkie... I admit it. I should go to meetings.) And in the midst of all this mundane life, in the throes of this quiet contentment, it hit me. I.am.in.a.relationship. A real one. Not a pseudo relationship where we only see each other on dates. We see each other in real life. We don't even go out to dinner once a week. (Sometimes we do, but it's not uncommon for me to cook every night.) On the heels of that revelation, another more staggering knocked the wind out of me.

I was in love with him.


How the hell did this happen?!?!? No! This isn't right! What if he doesn't love me? Worse yet, what if he does?? Shit! Shit shit shit shit. This is going to hurt so bad. This isn't going to be good at all. Someone is going to hurt, and it's going to make me hurt, and I am so tired of hurting. Maybe I am wrong... maybe I am not in love. Maybe I am just being silly. That's it... I am confused again. But the thought of him politely rejecting me, of him turning his back on the only thing of value I have, made me desolate. So I went at it like a boy. I'd treated it all very offhandedly. He must have seen through it. Damn his keen eye. He informed me that he was aware of the situation between us, but he wouldn't discuss it because he didn't want to freak me out worse. He let me come to the idea as slow as I needed.

I won't say it's been easy. I've had second thoughts and moments of paralyzing fear. He knows, and he's never pushed... never gotten bent about my sometimes incapacitating past. Patient and caring, trying his damnedest to fix every hurt ever inflicted. Fuck if that didn't make me fall harder faster. All he ever wants is to see me smile, and would juggle flashing dildos to make it happen. It is an adjustment, being with someone who is happy just sitting next to me on the couch with his hand on my thigh.

Christmas was an interesting compromise of old traditions and new ones made. New Years was a quiet affair with Nan and Gentle Giant, Buh and Lil Bit. Super Bowl Sunday was spent at Ass's with him, Lois (Ass's girlfriend), and a few other friends. I consider holiday season over. But Scratchy, despite himself, is a traditional romantic at heart. On Valentine's Day, after dinner he took me out and bought me a chest freezer. Yeah, I got a card, a big box of my favorite chocolates, and a rose, but I.GOT.A.MAJOR.APPLIANCE. A major appliance that I had lusted after for years. My attached female friends spent the day posting about the flowers, candy, and jewelry they had got. And I was smirking to myself at how I got the better deal. And then he made plans to whisk me away for an night in a beautiful jacuzzi suite. The package was dinner (at my favorite steakhouse of all time), and a movie, included in the price of the room for a very awesome price. Check in Saturday at 3.

Saturday morning, I drag myself out of bed earlier than normal so I can freeze the family packs of pork chops, pork roasts, chicken breasts and ground beef that he had brought home the night before.Scratchy claimed he had to go finish buying my presents. 'Oh and by the way, what are your favorite candle scents?'  I tell him my top two. I smile at him he kisses me and leaves. I get everything I need to get done, done. He sends me a picture of two candles, and tells me he'll be home shortly. I start packing an over night bag. I pack all the necessary accoutrements one must take on a romantic getaway, I pack toiletries and clothing. We were going to get ready for dinner at the hotel, so I had to take all my makeup and hair stuff. Scratchy came home, and was trying to get his stuff rounded up. He made the remark that he was sweating like a pig. I laughed, and told him there was no reason to be nervous, it's not like we'd never had sex before. He chuckled, and threw the last of his stuff in the bags.

We get to the hotel and marvel at how nice it is, how big the tub is, blah blah. He rushes me into the shower with the demand that I make sure it's safe when I am ready to come out. I begrudgingly complied. Showered, and dressed, I stood asking if I could come out until permission was given. When I came out of the bathroom, the rest of the suite had been lit softly with a handful of fragrant candles, grouped mostly around the tub. There were white fabric rose petals sprinkled all across the king sized bed, and on the floor surrounding the bed. It was the cutest thing. I'd never had anyone do anything that traditionally romantic just for me. I couldn't do anything but grin. I kissed him, and after being prodded, went and finished my makeup and hair so we could go to dinner.

The restaurant has a wait of an hour and a half. It's worth it, we waited. His best friend, Mr. Who, texted him during dinner. Just to give him a hard time, I point out that I wasn't allowed to text anyone, but he was texting. He laughed and said 'Maybe if you're good, I'll let you text later.' We laughed.

After dinner we went back to the room, and decided we were going to play a few hands of cards. (I insisted. I needed time for a wardrobe change, if you know what I mean.) I change into a pair of black yoga shorts and a tshirt... and black thigh high socks that were detailed up the back with a silver zipper design, and a hot pink Playboy Bunny above the knee. He smiled like the devil himself when he saw the socks. I told him he wasn't allowed to touch me while we were playing cards. And let me tell you, I had to scold him for breaking the rule a few times, but nothing too serious. Again, his phone chirped, Mr. Who had said something funny enough to make Scratchy laugh out loud. He sent a reply and picked his cards back up. I make another comment about him texting and me not, because I knew Mr Who wouldn't have bugged us without a reason, so I can safely rib Scratchy about it. He told me that I would soon enough know what was going on, and just to be patient. I think we were five hands in when I became disenchanted with the game. I got up to go to the bathroom, and told him I was ready to quit, insinuating heavily that I was ready for the jacuzzi.

He told me to stay in the bathroom until he said I could come back out. Figuring he was relighting the candles, to make the transition into that beautiful tub even more seamless, I stood in the bathroom until allowed to return to the main room. And as I suspected, all the candles had been relit and he was standing in the middle of the room. I smiled as I walked by and figured, why not get dirty before we take our bath, and started to crawl up on the bed. But he stopped me. Told me to stand next to the bed and close my eyes. I had one more surprise.

"Keep your eyes closed, do you have your eyes closed?"

"Yes." What the hell is he doing? He's walking away. Where the hell is he going?

And then he did it. My whole world slid out of tilt when I opened my eyes. I didn't even see the glinting rock in the red box that he had lifted up to me. I only registered that he was lower than me, HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HE'S ON ONE KNEE!! I lost the filter on my mouth the moment I realized he was on one knee. I was in shock, I couldn't help it, I incredulously asked...

"Are you fucking serious??" No malice, just utter confusion, and disbelief.

Honestly, I couldn't tell you what he said after he smiled and said yes. I don't know if he asked me to be his wife, or if he asked me to marry him. I don't know if he went on to tell me he loved me, or if he said my name when he asked me. I was too busy trying to memorize every major detail about this moment. The way he smiled when he spoke, how gently he held my hand, how my heart was beating so loud and so fast. I don't even know if I breathed. I know I nodded, or said yes. It seems to me, I screamed it, but in reality I probably choked it out. Arms wrapped and kisses deep and shuddering. Wait, wait... look at the ring, do you like it? I didn't care what the ring looked like, he bought it because he wants to be with me forever. He bought me a ring. I just wanted to kiss him again.

He made me stop. I think he needed to know that I liked the ring. We'd never discussed anything about styles, or metals, or even sizes. He walked into it blind. I flicked on the light and sat down on the edge of the bed. He proudly informed me that it was a three quarter ct, that the band was white gold, and the cut was called a brilliant cut. He said I told him that you were a simpler kind of person, nothing flashy, nothing too bling bling. I thought this one was good because it was just a solitaire, just basic, but beautiful.  He went on to tell me that it probably wouldn't fit, we'd have to get it sized. They had shown him the biggest sized rings they had on the floor, in his price range. As I pulled the ring out of the box, I asked what size it was. Seven? Must be, because it fits.

It was too late to tell most people, although, Mr Who had stated he was not going to bed until he got an answer as to what I'd said, got a text almost immediately. I sent out a few texts, telling those I am closest to. I even texted my dad, whom I haven't spoken to since moving out of the house. At 7:30 Sunday morning, Scratchy called Tiny and asked her if she would be home for awhile, that we were going to stop by. By 9 am we were sitting in his mom's living room. She took the news with hoots and hugs. And some gentle pressure to provide her with a grandchild. Which isn't any different than any other time I talk to her. We just laugh her off. From there we went to Scratchy's dad's and told him. He congratulated us and asked about babies. We laughed it off.

I am still in a state of shock. Every time the light catches the stone I am in awe of how much my life has changed in this past year. How I have gone from being lost, to having a home. We haven't set a date, we aren't going to rush things too much. I don't think it's become real enough for me to think about setting a date.

I wanted to tell you all, I wanted you to be happy with me. I hope everything is going as good for you, as it is for me. Now, I have to fill up my ice water and make sure thee is enough sweet tea for Scratchy to have something to drink when he wakes up... Even tho he should be drinking his pineapple juice first thing so it's done for the day....

The Slut