Future X Husband is fighting for a life with me. To be honest, I am not sure how I am suppose to feel about it. On one hand, marriage doesn’t sound like a bad idea. He’s successful, always out of town and is a freak. On the other hand, I know he’s not the one for me. I saw him yesterday to watch to Dallas Cowboys and the first thing I saw was a platinum Tiffany band on his left ring finger. As big of a bitch that I am, I melted. Fuck. Fuck. And fuck. I melted.
So we are drinking heavily, eating greasy pizza and we start asking each other crazy questions. He asked me if he could piss on my face and slap the shit outta me. I asked him if I could tie him to the ceiling fan and shoot him with a paintball gun. Ummmm no and no. He asked me if he could handcuff me and tie me down. I said no and that he would probably throw away the key and leave me there a la SAW. I asked if I could handcuff him and he raises his left hand and we both laugh.
I could see a future for us (sometimes) complete with mortgage, crying infants and credit card debt. But why am I calling him Future X Husband? Do I love him? Do I care about him? Am I being faithful to him? No, I think and hell no. Maybe it’s the anxiety I am feeling to be the person I never wanted to be: boring. I already told him that I need fireworks and vodka on a daily basis. I am talking drunk nights, swinger clubs, walks on South Beach and a few orgies. We already discussed my frivolous ways with the boys. Hence, the swingers club.
One thing I can say from all of this, it is crazy how honest we are with each other. We’ve been knowing each other for a few months (I know, crazy) and I am not afraid to be myself. Which includes cursing him out, being my ADD self, rambling on about nothing. He takes pictures of me on the toilet and calls me midget. I am 5′2. He’s 6′3. He is my big, black warrior I always dreamed of. Tall, dark, handsome with incredibly white teeth. So what is it that I am afraid of?
He is already locking himself to me. Am I ready to lock myself with him?
