Flea Market Guy has been out of town for a week now with work. A business week. 5 days. The last time I saw his face in person was Sunday night. He left Monday. And it’s been awful and amazing at the same time. Awful because we are in our new phase where I want to spend every moment with him until I get bored. Amazing because I can see how much I’ve grown over the years. It may be less me and more him. He has this way of making me feel good about us. But more importantly, he talks to me and jokes around with me like we are friends. So even when he says something about finding an Indian girl in South Dakota or a prostitute in Vegas, I know it’s just a joke. I probably should have posted this blog yesterday on my what is supposed to be Flashback Friday blog, but I’ve been slipping the past couple weeks in the memory department. But I remember back in the day when I’ve been in relationships. I was so insecure. I think I was also probably really co-dependent. Having been single, going on dates and spending a lot of time alone for the majority of the last four years has taught me a lot. It has taught me what I want in a relationship. It has taught me what I expect out of people (which isn’t much, honestly) but mostly it taught me that I am fine by myself. Some people are better with someone else. Or they feel better when they have someone, but when they have to be alone, it’s all bad. I’m opposite. I’m good when I’m by myself. Maybe even better than when I’m coupled up. But I also realize that I’ve been coupled up with all the wrong people. After every break up I’ve had, the guys always want to either stay friends or later after I’ve forgiven them for whatever they did, they want to be friends. And except for one person, I’ve always declined. My reasoning was that we weren’t friends to begin with. And usually, they weren’t the kind of people I would have been friends with. They were just the kind of people that I would have sex with. And that was a whole different ballgame.
I think that’s why Flea Market Guy is different. I love his sense of humor. I love his personality. I love his random thoughts. I love our conversations. We can talk about anything. If he says an actress is hot, I don’t get mad. I usually agree. I guess it would be odd to say we have the same taste in women, but… we can agree on who we would let “borrow some sugar.” More importantly, he’s just a genuinely good guy. A trustworthy guy. An honest guy. He’s the kind of guy that I would be friends with. We are friends. I’m really glad he wanted to take things slow because our relationship is not clouded with sex. Yes, it’s happened. And it was awesome and beautiful, and definitely worth repeating, but it’s not the foundation of why we spend our time together.
I think that’s why he’s so special to me. He’s just a good guy. A good guy who does what he says he’s going to do. He doesn’t make promises and then not follow through. If that were the case, he just wouldn’t say anything at all. I’m not saying he’s perfect. He’s got flaws (or at least that’s what he says), but so far, we get along perfectly. And yes, I know it’s too soon to tell, but he was just one of those people who felt good from the first moment. And trust me, I’m no stranger to eating my words, so if I have to, I will. But for now, I am counting the days until he gets back (which at this moment is 6 more) because he is one of my happy places and I miss his face next to mine.
So there’s some Saturday sappiness.