*blue balls not included.
On this day, two years ago, I went home with some random drunk.
Scratch that, he wasn’t so much “random” as he was a “stalker.” Kinda.
Regardless, I liked his penis, so we continued dating. And then I did what you’re not supposed to: fell in love with the damn Arrogant Bastard.
And because of that, my life has completely changed for the better. {insert “awwwwwww”} Truly, some days I love this man so fucking hard I don’t know what to do with it (TWSS). He motivates me; he balances me; he makes fun of me when I cry before boarding airplanes, or when I think about our cats on vacation. He’s taught me everything about transparency and nothing about cooking (because I’m not doing that shit). My heart has softened; my penis has hardened… wait, I already used that word in this post. My ability to screw things up has weakened (he just won’t let me).
For everything I ever wanted in a lifetime partnership, I found (and even some things I didn’t, like, socks on the floor in front of the hamper): friendship, honesty, commitment, communication, trust and above all, my-whole-heart-in love. Cheers this St. Patrick’s Day and to a wonderful two years, AB.
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This blog is about pursuit: a transplanted Clevelander (me) in a new city (that's you, Pittsburgh!), pursuing the role of a self-employed copywriter, becoming a roller derby badass and somehow merging all my to-do items into one ever-growing Bucket List.
And of MY boyfriend. His blue balls started this mess.
