This blog. My other blog. They have both ruined my life.
I started this thing to plug my first novella. A novella that I wanted women to relate to…the blog then carried on as a tale tale of dating. A world where I could share things that may or may not have happened in my life. My boyfriend read my post the other day. The first post I have made since we met. A post that was supposed to serve as an ‘underdog’ tale. One that lets everyone know that life is gonna be okay. No matter what happens.
Well, fuck my life. He didn’t read it that way. He somehow read that I was leaving him at the end of the summer.
Every guy I have ever dated, sorta dated, simply ‘talked’ to has hated my blog. I didn’t have a reason to blog with my boyfriend, and I’ll be damned if the moment I do–shit’s gone sideways.
I have always prided myself on being me: You get me the way I am. Since I met him, and a lot of you know how crazy this is for me, because I don’t get super close to men…I’ve quit smoking (even when I drink), well I’m trying really hard. I got a vape for when I drink. I’ve started being super kind to people even through being mad. I know, no more cynicism. I’ve decided to go on a full-on detox after my friend’s Hen Do this weekend. He didn’t know about that, but I am. I need to lose weight. Plus it’s glamping and there is no stripper. Can almost guarantee…
I’m getting birth control. I know, some of you just fell out of your chair. I’ve never been in a relationship where I thought it was important enough. No one has ever put me in a position where I want to be awesome for both him, our future, and our family. This guy does.
I’m trying to be super understanding, kind to him, supportive of all the things happening. I woke up today thinking, “And once again my blog has ruined my life.”
But maybe it hasn’t…
This guy means the world to me. I’d like the world to show him just how much. I want everyone in my network, my friends, my family, my readers, strangers, amazing people all over the world to help me let him know that I searched the world over for him. I found him. My name is not Elsa. I’m not willing to just ‘let it go’.
I will be patient, understanding, and caring. I will love him even in the dark days. Through the ‘bad’ times, the ‘stupid good’ times…the ‘I need to be alone’ times. The times he sticks his fork in my mashed sweet potatoes, or tries to kiss me when I’m getting ready. The times he isn’t feeling great. The times I really just need to help him pick his nose. What? We’re weirdos.
The weirdo will introduce you to the freak inside you.
You think you know yourself, and then you meet someone who challenges every part of your being.
Weirdos make you rethink your life, your passions and what the hell you’ve been doing this whole time. You go from who you were to who you could be.
Through the highest highs and the lowest lows. I vow to be his best friend, the person he can talk to even if he thinks I might judge him or be upset–I won’t. I will try to understand the situation, and be patient in whatever comes next. I will try very hard not to be up his butt either.
The weirdo will never question when you need to take time for your own adventure.
Not only do weirdos support your personal endeavors, they push them. They don’t just want to be there for you; they want to show you the way. They believe in everyone as much as they believe in themselves, and that support will change your life.
My whole life, every blog, every trial and dating tribulation I have gone through to get right where I am: without you, Baby, it’s a waste of time. People envy what we have. Our love is everything I saw in that stupid set of Prince Charles and Princess Diana paper dolls that drove my dreams to a life in England when I was six years old. You are my fairy tale.
I don’t promise that things will be awesome all of the time, that we won’t have challenges, but I can promise that the love that’s there is real and that it doesn’t have to make sense to be awesome. I promise I will be your rock, always on your team, to help you figure it out–and vice versa. You’re my lobster. My actual lobster. That doesn’t mean I want to take a Rachel and Ross style break, but I’m willing to take a step back so you can breathe.
But who is gonna help me reel in my shit attitude?
Who’s gonna be inappropriately racist with me?
I mean, no one else gets this joke:
Or this one:
Who’s gonna laugh when I’m really funny?
Or make me laugh?
Or give me hope?
Or remind me that this day was the ‘first day’ of my life:
I know you think things are moving fast. But we don’t do things ‘normal’. I know it’s crazy, but it shouldn’t make sense–it’s not right if you haven’t lost your mind. I mean, there is a song about all of this. I guess I just want you to know ‘I love you’. More than any other man I have ever met in my entire life.
The ‘first day of my life’ was built on an eleven hour first date with the most brilliant, kind, sweet, sincere, loving, handsome, talented, funny, intelligent, beautiful man I have ever met.
“You with me, ‘Betty’?”
Yep. I said ‘Betty’. The situation called for it.
xx Brittany (p.s. cue the reminder tunes)