Status: Three parts. :)
I Want to Know What Love Is
Who Says Nice Guys Finish Last?
November 4th, 2011 2:46 PM
Delightfully Delilah wrote:
I know, I know, I haven’t written anything in over a month. I’ve been busy. But not like that. Though I know that’s what you’re thinking but that hasn’t happened yet. ‘Yet’ being the keyword and I believe I shall shut up now. God, I’m so glad he doesn’t know I have a blog.
Anyways, things are moving fast with Beau. We’ve been around each other constantly—during our lunch hours, during dinner, sometimes breakfast; on weekends we’re either out wandering the city, doing what seems fun or would be a good laugh, or having sleepovers and watching DVDs and cuddling on his futon or my couch. Never in all my years would I think that I would cuddle and being okay with noogies and zerberts and wet willies like I’m a kid—but not. Because they’re playfully romantic gestures—now how does that work out? Sound gross yet? We also swap fart jokes and I am no longer embarrassed of being a girl and having to y’know… poop and stuff. Okay, yeah, I might be a little embarrassed to write it on my blog that we joke about poop too. But really, with this relationship, I’ve come to terms with poop and have decided that it is indeed not pure, concentrated evil coming out of my anus, it’s my tri-weekly gift to the sewer rats.
Right. Well, uh… Yup. For Thanksgiving I’m going to be going to his grandparent’s house. I’m a little nervous because, well, it’s his grandparents and I have to make a good impression. I’ve met his best friend, Rodney, his childhood friend, Sasha, who I always think of as Beyonce’s alter ego—Sasha Fierce and a few other buddies of his and he’s met mine—Lonnie and Marie and Dan, the shameless gay flirt. So far, so good. His friends like me, my friends like him. It’s a green light, a beacon in the harbor, a candle when the power goes out—
Speaking of the power going out, when I was at his apartment, the power went out, so we had a little picnic in his living room and we played Clue—now how did he know that was my favorite
board game?
I also told him about my fiancé… Er… ex-fiancé, I guess. I’ve heard of people saying their exes are dead, and I was going to go ahead and do that for a while, but that’s just avoiding the problem. I told Beau that I had my wedding dress, and we had our wedding bands and we had the venue and the date and the invitations were sent out—and then he stopped calling me and stopped seeing me. And then two weeks later, I’m freaking out because the wedding is in less than a month and my groom has disappeared, and then he sent me a package telling me that he’s calling off the wedding, that he isn’t ready. And then the note asked if I could please return the ring. I sold it at a pawn shop instead—Cubic Zirconium, cheap bastard. I found out a few months later that he had knocked up a teenage girl and her family was filing for a lawsuit. I love karma.
Well, I haven’t told anyone I’ve ever dated about that before. It’s like I think that it’ll ruin everything to tell someone about a guy not wanted to marry me and me not being worth real diamonds to him. I know it’s kind of stupid, but that’s how I feel.
Anyways. Beau took me to the symphony last month. It was a great time because the lady in front of us was giving her ‘partner’ a hand job. Just awesome. We still joke about it.
And then one Saturday we took the subway wherever it would take us. We were on for hours, people watching and kissing until we went to the end of the line and got off to eat something at the deli in the subway station. That was a great day too. It seems like the simple stuff is the best. Like, one time we went to the opening of this fancy new sushi restaurant and ended up getting food poisoning together. So, we had a better time just sitting on my bed and talking about our pasts and our future aspirations and our favorite things. It was nice.
Everything about him is nice.
And who says nice guys finish last?
More soon,
Delilah
Delightfully Delilah wrote:
I know, I know, I haven’t written anything in over a month. I’ve been busy. But not like that. Though I know that’s what you’re thinking but that hasn’t happened yet. ‘Yet’ being the keyword and I believe I shall shut up now. God, I’m so glad he doesn’t know I have a blog.
Anyways, things are moving fast with Beau. We’ve been around each other constantly—during our lunch hours, during dinner, sometimes breakfast; on weekends we’re either out wandering the city, doing what seems fun or would be a good laugh, or having sleepovers and watching DVDs and cuddling on his futon or my couch. Never in all my years would I think that I would cuddle and being okay with noogies and zerberts and wet willies like I’m a kid—but not. Because they’re playfully romantic gestures—now how does that work out? Sound gross yet? We also swap fart jokes and I am no longer embarrassed of being a girl and having to y’know… poop and stuff. Okay, yeah, I might be a little embarrassed to write it on my blog that we joke about poop too. But really, with this relationship, I’ve come to terms with poop and have decided that it is indeed not pure, concentrated evil coming out of my anus, it’s my tri-weekly gift to the sewer rats.
Right. Well, uh… Yup. For Thanksgiving I’m going to be going to his grandparent’s house. I’m a little nervous because, well, it’s his grandparents and I have to make a good impression. I’ve met his best friend, Rodney, his childhood friend, Sasha, who I always think of as Beyonce’s alter ego—Sasha Fierce and a few other buddies of his and he’s met mine—Lonnie and Marie and Dan, the shameless gay flirt. So far, so good. His friends like me, my friends like him. It’s a green light, a beacon in the harbor, a candle when the power goes out—
Speaking of the power going out, when I was at his apartment, the power went out, so we had a little picnic in his living room and we played Clue—now how did he know that was my favorite
board game?
I also told him about my fiancé… Er… ex-fiancé, I guess. I’ve heard of people saying their exes are dead, and I was going to go ahead and do that for a while, but that’s just avoiding the problem. I told Beau that I had my wedding dress, and we had our wedding bands and we had the venue and the date and the invitations were sent out—and then he stopped calling me and stopped seeing me. And then two weeks later, I’m freaking out because the wedding is in less than a month and my groom has disappeared, and then he sent me a package telling me that he’s calling off the wedding, that he isn’t ready. And then the note asked if I could please return the ring. I sold it at a pawn shop instead—Cubic Zirconium, cheap bastard. I found out a few months later that he had knocked up a teenage girl and her family was filing for a lawsuit. I love karma.
Well, I haven’t told anyone I’ve ever dated about that before. It’s like I think that it’ll ruin everything to tell someone about a guy not wanted to marry me and me not being worth real diamonds to him. I know it’s kind of stupid, but that’s how I feel.
Anyways. Beau took me to the symphony last month. It was a great time because the lady in front of us was giving her ‘partner’ a hand job. Just awesome. We still joke about it.
And then one Saturday we took the subway wherever it would take us. We were on for hours, people watching and kissing until we went to the end of the line and got off to eat something at the deli in the subway station. That was a great day too. It seems like the simple stuff is the best. Like, one time we went to the opening of this fancy new sushi restaurant and ended up getting food poisoning together. So, we had a better time just sitting on my bed and talking about our pasts and our future aspirations and our favorite things. It was nice.
Everything about him is nice.
And who says nice guys finish last?
More soon,
Delilah
♠ ♠ ♠
It's awkward. I know. Ohhhhh well. :D