Currently Chasing: An End to the Wait

I’m at a loss as to what to write this blog about. I want to write about how wonderful love is. I want to talk about how amazing it is to meet a man who totally sweeps you off your feet within weeks of meeting him. I want to be in love with love.

But hence; every great love story has a whole entire middle section of despair right? Otherwise, what kind of story would it be? And let’s face it, my love stories are usually all despair.

Let’s just start with this …

Once upon a time I met a man. You know that guy right? The one you see right away and you know there is just SOMETHING about him. Now being me I figured that SOMETHING would end up being that he was too freaky, young, nasty, dirty, kinky, old or desperate. There had to be something I would hate right? There is ALWAYS something. In fact, I wanted there to be something. I was begging for there to be something.

You see, I’m getting ready to travel to a land far, far away from my current residence in the land of Mary. And FUCK. Why would I want to fall in love now? I wouldn’t. I don’t. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I shouldn’t.

But I did.

I’ve kept our texts since the conception of this, dare I say … relationship? Holy shit. I can barely even type that word without just assuming that all hell is going to break loose and I’m going to have my heart smashed into bits.

But you know what he made me realize? I’ve broken more hearts than I give myself credit for. And I’m just as much to blame for my crappy luck in love as the guys who leave phone messages of them masterbating and send photos of dream catchers hanging from their cocks. (Yes, more than one. Crazy right? They weren’t even Indian.)

So we agreed. Let’s just spend time together and see what happens. That may sound like we didn’t have a plan, but seeing what happens is not the same as not having a plan. So fuck you. However, the last time I just “saw what happened,” I ended up engaged to a beautiful man who I ended up fucking over royally. And I really mean royally because he was a member of the royal Marine Corps. He worked for the queen for fuck’s sake. And I was like. Yeah, whatever, fuck your little British heart. I’m such a creep!

But seeing what would happen seemed hopeful and different this time. And I wanted to … See. What. Would. Happen. And guess what fucking happened? I fell for him. AND I’M PISSED!

Cause today he walked out of my house and said “I’ll see you in a year.” And holy fuck I really hope he means it. But really? Is that possible? Do we have enough foundation to wait a year and build a house? Usually my foundation is fucking sinking sand. I’m toxic! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!

I’m not the girl who gets the guy. I’m the girl who starts to get the guy, realizes the guy is a complete fucking freak of nature, and then (thankfully) lives to tell the story.

Hopefully this is the beginning of a different story. Maybe it’s time for me to actually fucking try and succeed at something. What’s the worst thing that could happen? I want that fucking happy ever after. And I won’t stop waiting for him until I get it.