marriage? ok fine.
The faces in the streets can only be described as empty. A result of the endless rain for the past few weeks. The gray dims the light of souls, blending them into a tempered monochromatic, blur. In December humans become soggy, sour, and uncomfortable even in Italy, a place of beauty, and what is described as a place of luxury. Though, I have to say, cold flooring, in unheated apartments is everything but luxurious. Even polished with makeup, I feel lackluster.
My boyfriend is Italian. He’s stereotypical in the sense that he is amazing in bed, lies a lot about incredibly stupid things (like how much he hates anal…which we all know he doesn’t), and he is the most romantic person I have ever met. His romancing comes in word form and actions. For example, the other night I told him he could have a prostitute. He said, “I only have eyes for you. The idea of sleeping with another woman makes me sick”. Yeah, yeah, I thought. “No really. As long as she is classy, and expensive, I don’t consider that cheating. Because I don’t.” “I only want you” he pushed.
I fell asleep thinking that my boyfriend is either gay or unable to think ahead. Aka, when I’m bitchy and pregnant. I woke up to a diamond ring on my finger and him tapping my hand. “Yes? No?” He asked.
“Is this because I said you could have a hooker?” I asked.
“Yes” he said.
How romantic.
I have suspended emotions so while I should be either A) terrified or B) excited. I don’t feel anything. I love my boyfriend most of the time. He’s a good guy a lot of the time. He makes me happy. Sex is always great. He’s a dirty pervert and spends a weird amount of time asking me to pee on him (I have said no a thousand times, but I think he likes the challenge). Sex is increasingly more comfortable for him. And despite him “hating anal” a few months ago, he has started trying to put it in my ass. Which means he thinks that since I have this ring on he can pin cushion me. Not so much.
I feel strange wearing it. Like I have been put away in a cupboard. Not because I am “off the market” because I hate men and humans and was never really “on it”. Still, I catch myself hiding my hand when people talk with me assuming they are judging me. I am one of “those” girls. The engaged ones. Popping out a baby any day. I know that much of male interaction is based on the “big hope”. Even if they are friends, it begins with the hope of getting into your pants. Without the big hope, how will I manage to make friends with how much I dislike women? Yes, this is what I think about.
I want a hot chocolate.
