He’s not wonderful.
The way he insults my homemaking skills. The way he silently mocks me as I struggle to keep my head in the kitchen after yelling at him to shut up. The way he snatches food away from me and say ‘You eat too much’ and completely devours them eventhough he says he bought it for me five minutes earlier. The way he makes fun of the way I dress. The way it’s goddamn impossible to contact him sometimes. The way he can’t accept opinions aside from his own. The way he forgets things. Important things.
There are times when I fantasize about beating him with my 800 paged Statistics textbook.
Plus he snores.
…
As I daydream on my bed he reaches out to me and pulls me closer to him. Our eyes meet and we smile to one another. He asks me whether I want to move in with him officially. I laugh at him and say I wouldn’t move in with him even if he paid me. He pouts then asks whether he can drop me off at the airport at the end of the month. Sneaks in a kiss to bribe me. Sneaky bugger. As I pause and stay silent as if seriously contemplating his request, he starts tickling me and soon we’re both on the floor breathless from laughter.
This is what we do. We make fun of each others flaws, give each other a hard time about it and eventually go overboard and snap at one another. But at the end of the day there’s always someone quietly taking the others hand and trying to make things better. Key word is try cause we both have pretty big egos. We both know what our faults are and we accept them especially with the other aggressively pointing it out. Sometimes I think we’re too frank with one another..
I don’t know about him but it’s the first time I’m really making an effort to change. Not who I am, but more of what I do. He says he’s already happy with who I am right now. And that makes me.. I dunno.. Happy?
Its weird how similar we both are and seem to understand one another.
Ah, I’ve just said a cliche.
He interupts my train of thoughts yet again by whining about how hungry he is. I remind him that slaves work to eat, not eat to work and order him to continue hanging my freshly laundered clothes into my wardrobe. I then proudly brandish a crumpled piece of paper stating his slavery term of a period of 72 hours. A legally binding document signed by the both of us. Turns out paying attention in Law class taught me something useful after all. He mutters something in French and continues his ‘chore’.
Yeah he’s not wonderful, but then again who is? ‘Wonder’ is at the beginning of that word for a reason and I think I’m beginning to be more accepting towards human drawbacks.
I hear him singing lyrics from a familiar love song. For someone hungry he sure has enough energy to spare. I roll my eyes but despite myself, feel a tiny smile spreading across my face.
He’s not wonderful, but I’m happy.
Plus he cooks for me and buys me yummy yummies. Yes!