#crazyish

This isn't like "give thanks" or a list for Thanksgiving prayer.

(Also, Happy Halloween! What are you all doing this year?!)

So, I don't have a perfect boyfriend. He doesn't love me. He doesn't buy me fancy jewelry or surprise me with homemade dinners or whatever else social media likes you to think men should do for their lady-lovers.

But perfection doesn't exist. Sometimes we wish it did. Means we can sit back and spend more time on something else than trying to build the perfect companion. I love mine dearly. He is my best friend, advisor, and gaming partner. Recently though, I was upset with him because I had told him I loved him for the umteenth time, and he told me that it makes him uncomfortable for an equal amount of time. Love is something he's never experienced, something he doesn't think he will ever experience, even if this relationship is the realist he's ever been in. And with me being tired of dicking around with guys who aren't serious and ready to find a life partner, I panicked. Are we going to be together forever?, I thought. Because I want that. I want to be done trying to find someone I want to share my life with. If I could exist alone and be totally ok about it, I would. But I long for another's touch, their embrace. I was worried he wasn't invested in me as much as I was in him. Two years we've been together. It sounds like just a blip in life, but living it feels a lot longer. To put my fears aside, he's ask me to move in with him, er, find a house together. 

We're stereotypical genders; I'm the emotional female who's always sharing her feelings and he's the quiet but strong male who doesn't get in touch with his feelings at all. Until I poke and prod him. We function well and a few times I've gotten him to open up. My problem lies in the fact that I believe that I want romance now (never cared for it before). I want the physical and the emotional. I want to be held, and told that I make him happy. And I want him to say it first instead of me all the time. I feel like I'm guilting him into responding the way I want him to respond. And that's not fair to either of us. This is a guy who will hold me no questions ask, kiss my forehead, hold my hand, cuddle in his bed, and I'm complaining like a spoiled child that that's not enough. Now I seem as though I'm being unfair to him. But we work. Somehow. As crazy as I can be sometimes, he's still sticking around. Poor guy.

I didn't want to end it like that but my brain ran out of stuff to say. So, toodles, I guess. Until another time.