So during our multitude of talks on Friday night, Mr. OoT asked me if I’d ever want to get married. I swear I almost wet the bed. Why the fuck is he asking me that? This is the 3rd weekend we’ve spent together. While I am certainly hoping he didn’t mean it in a will you marry me, kinda way (#4, really?), it freaked me out a little. As I was facing away from him at the time (little spoon, ya’ know), he wasn’t privy to my deer in the headlights facial expression. I did my best to rebound from my shock and not get all weirded out by the question. I told him I guess it would depend on the circumstances. That I had always assumed, as young and ignorant girl (before way too many years of online dating jaded me) that I would get married. That I truly would like to experience the ceremony and symbolism of it all. That I, regardless of how UN women’s lib it is, feel like a bit of a failure for never being married at 50. I think having years of online nimrods asking me ‘what’s wrong with you’ when they find out that I’ve not been married to thank for at least a little of this. Fuckers. After my response to Mr. OoT, I promptly changed the subject.
Mr. OoT is SUPER into me. It’s absolutely not in my nature or lack of ego to ever say something like that, but he’s pretty open about it. He’s also very neurotic and nervous about it. He keeps telling me that he’ll totally understand that when (not if) I decide in 6 months that he’s too weird for me, he’ll understand. I asked him why he thinks he’s such an unloveable weirdo. If it’s a factor of his own doing or if he’s been told this by others. He wouldn’t answer. I’m guessing it’s a combination of the two.
I asked him how many time he’s been in love. His first response was to say ‘apparently never as nothing has ever worked out’. I told him what a sadly ridiculous answer that was. That you can absolutely be in love and not have things work out. We talked about it a bit more and he changed his answer to 4. I called bullshit on that one too. He’s been married 3 times for fuck sake.
I did something completely insane the other day and I still don’t know why. I’m not a FB stalker or a google searcher. If I want to know something about someone, I just ask. I completely FB stalked him. Like every single post back 2009. Insane. And time consuming, I might add. If that isn’t concerning enough, I actually went the extra step of screen shotting every single ‘I love you’, ‘you are my world’, and any other declaration of love to different women. I actually find it odd that these women all went out of their way to post weirdly ‘look at me and my man’ posts on FB instead of sending them directly to him, but as I was presently being a psycho, who am I to judge? Anywho, apparently 2011 was a big year for him. 4 different women, in fairly quick succession, were the recipients of his heart. Why the hell do I care what happened 7 years ago? No clue.
Best yet about all of this? I told him I did it. He asked me why. I couldn’t answer. He wanted to know if I did it to use against him in the future. Weird. No. He wanted to know if I was in the process of trying to sabotage things. Against my usual M.O., again a big NO. I told him that I think he’s in love with the idea of love. He said I was wrong. I assure you, I am not. Anywhoo, I do think something that bothers me are all the ‘baby’, ‘you’re amazing’ and other terminology that he uses with me. Why on earth, at his advanced age of 40 whatever, would I think that I’d be the 1st woman that he calls baby?
I do find it refreshing, if not foreign as hell, for me to be so open and comfortable with him. Sure, I’m still the same neurotic dumbass that I’ve always been, but I just tell him about all of it. And instead of thinking I’m a total mess, he does his best to make me feel better and let’s me know how much he appreciates my honesty as it makes him feel more secure in things knowing that I’m a weirdo too.