The time has come. I am going to talk about the man I am going to marry.
I am. So if you don't want to hear me all mushy ooey gooey, then stop reading. Right now.
Riiight...now. Just checking!
I met him at my last job. We actually started on the same day, in the same training class. He sat behind me, and I remember noticing him but thinking he was too old for me. (Eleven years in case you had to know) Hot, yes, but too old. Oh yeah, and I was technically a lesbian at that point. I noticed him at work, but I was in a relationship and I thought he was, so life was pretty uneventful.
So, six months later, things with Hex are bad. Feeling reckless one night after my relationship has ended, I am talking to him at my register. And I ask him out.
I felt so brave.
It felt wonderful. So we start dating and he helps me move into my new apartment. Then this happens and life is weird for awhile. Next, I come to my senses and move on to happily-ever-after. I know, you're wondering when I get to the juicy stuff...
The obvious thing is I am so attracted to him, it's crazy. I never thought I'd find a guy so darn hot. He's clean, oh, and he always smells so good! He loves soap, and is a germ-a-phobe. He doesn't have morning breath. I know, sounds untrue, but it's not.
He's kind to animals and children. He'd probably be kind to elderly people too, but we don't know any. He's perceptive. He notices things around him that other people just do not notice. Whether it's the way someone wears their hair, or something they said, or just an off-putting feeling, he gets it.
When he says he going to do something, he does it. When he says he can do something, he can. I was skeptical at first, but I am no longer so. If he says he can fix the toilet when someone flushes a mini can of room freshener down it...he can. He proved it. He can fix cars and put up shelves and help build houses and make dinner. He can tuck children in and have pillow fights and lift heavy stuff.
He likes to hold my hand. He tells me he loves me. He respects my intelligence, and he thinks I'm hot when I'm being particularly smart. He has a good sense of fashion. He understands my need for shoes. He likes tattoos. He loves my hair, and sometimes when he thinks I'm asleep I can feel him petting it. My hair.
He is generous with his money and his time. He gets frustrated with me because he is very neat, and I am...not. He gets frustrated by my inconsistencies and chaotic organization/organized chaos. He gets angry when I shut-down and act indifferent when faced with confrontation, but he understands why. He is annoyed when I let my children walk all over me, but he understands why.
He likes my body and doesn't ever talk about my losing a few pounds...well, not losing them, I mean. If I don't shave my legs for a few days, he doesn't bitch or complain. When I am stressed out from work, he is comforting and tells me things that not only make me feel better, but I know that he actually means them.
He gets along with my family. It's as if there was an empty spot on my bookshelf and he fit right in that spot. We have similar values, similar beliefs. The best thing, aside from the sex? (Oh come on, you knew I would mention that sooner or later!)
He makes me laugh. Oh, not to say he doesn't make me cry, but fercryinoutloud, how this man can make me laugh. Life is somehow clearer again, like when you upgrade televisions. I look forward to holidays, when for the past few years, I was ready to go "anti-holiday". Falling asleep next to him and waking up in the same way is something to be treasured. Thinking about how he will be the only person who holds me and makes love to me for the rest of uh--his life (he's older than me, c'mon) is something I look forward to.
All right, now I'm even getting mushy for me, and I'm such a musher.