The Fourth Day.

It’s day four of Jock and I not talking. Now I’ve got the raging hump. I miss him so much. He messaged me late last night and said “You’re not still not talking to me then?”. Huh? He ignored the last message I sent… Now it’s all my fault? I messaged him back – “I was never not talking to you” and heard nothing back… yet again.

It’s like we’re playing a game, only I don’t know what game we’re playing or how to play it. When I message him, he doesn’t message me back yet I’m the one meant to be doing all the ignoring? I admit to being a stubborn bitch and letting my pride get in the way of the “I miss you” message I probably should have sent him by now, but why does it always have to be me doing all the damn hard work? It’s pissing me off.

I love the guy but this is exactly what I mean about our relationship. He’s a bigger kid than I am, and that just doesn’t work for me. At all. I need a man and I thought that’s what I’d got. Now I’m starting to second guess. Am I the one making all the adult decisions?

I have a thousand things to say to him and I have no idea where to start. Maybe I should write him a letter?

Dear Jock, 

I love you dude but honestly, you’re giving me the hardest time right now. You do everything I’ve ever asked of you and I apologise for needing more, but I don’t think it’s asking too much to ask you to evolve in the same way that our relationship has and is. 

I don’t ever want you to change. I don’t want you to be serious all the time or to make all the money in the world. I don’t want anything from you but your time and your love. I don’t care that you do the job you do, or that you don’t have the greatest bank balance (and have bad credit). I don’t give a shit about any of those things. I just give a shit about you. About us. 

In order for me to make the leap to parenthood, I’m going to need some sort of stability. I’m going to need you to be able to provide for me and a child – your child. I’m going to need to have somewhere to live that doesn’t home a thousand and one spiders at the same time. How are we meant to rent a place when you have bad credit and I have no credit? I’m not asking you to change everything about you; I’m just asking you to be a man, face up to your past debts, and get them paid off (with my help) so that we can start things on a fresh start. I have my own debts to clear and my own situation to sort out… I’m not blaming this on you. I’m just saying that if I’m being an adult and thinking about these things, you should be too. Unless we’re not in the same place, relationship-wise…

I love that you turn things into a joke. I need to take the same outlook as you sometimes and not worry about everything. I know that I’m a worrier. I get that. I’m not saying that I’m not. But sometimes you gotta worry about stuff. Grown up stuff.

I want to marry you. I’m already mentally planning my wedding. I’ve found the perfect dress, and the perfect suit for you, and one day I’ll show you that photo of that wedding on the big red Big City bus that I want us to recreate. 

I want to have your children. This is a fact I’m becoming more and more certain of with each day that passes, even when we are fighting like we do – those silly little fights that seem to go on for days without any rhyme or reason. I want to have a little boy that grows up just like you. Or a little girl that grows up just like me. I think our kids would be beautiful. They’d have massive big blue eyes because we both have massive big blue eyes. They’d be cool and laid back like you. And they’d have our shocking similar sense of humour. They are going to be fucking adorable kids. A handful and a half, but fucking adorable. 

In short, I don’t want you to ever change anything about yourself I just need you to be a grown up to help me realise that this grown up decision is a good idea. That’s all I want. A little sign to show me that I’m doing the right thing; I’m picking the right guy. That’s all I want. That’s all I need. Show me you can be that father that I know you want to be, and I’ll be more inclined to show you the mother that you want me to say I need to be. 

I love you. Please make your mind up. 



One thought on “The Fourth Day.

  1. Pingback: Stood Up. | Not So Sex in the City!

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