Not only because I went skating again today after seriously taking out my hands and knees yesterday.
Mom and I were driving home from Thanksgiving (which was delish, thanks Cousin!) and I got to blabbing, as I am wont to do after a few glasses of wine. Damned if I can remember how we got onto the topic of jealousy, but there we were.
Here is what a day in the life of the boy looks like, on average – just the parts that are key to my point: He gets up. He goes to work after a couple of hours, where on a big day he works with two other men, some days there’s one guy there, and quite often he works alone. Sometimes he doesn’t even go to the office, preferring to work from home. Either way, if we don’t have plans, there’s a not horrible chance that he’ll stop in at one of the restaurants on Main Street for lunch or an after work drink – or both. He knows everyone who works in all two of said restaurants, some of whom are female. He does not generally talk about them and is not shy about bringing me up in stories when the occasion is called for.
Here is what one of my average days looks like, with the same parts highlighted: I get up and run and go to work. I drink coffee with a friend of mine who I’ve worked with for several years (male). I IM with five other friends about lord knows what all freaking day long (Shovonda, my brother, and three male coworkers). I stop by the office of my sort-of mentor to gossip and have him trim my bangs if there are any stray hairs (male and while it doesn’t sound like it, straight). I go to a bazillion meetings with my team (all male). I then come home and incessantly repeat every morsel of the day in this fashion ‘I was with Allen in the cafe and Bob stopped by and told me that Corey was having a breakdown, but on my way up to his office Devon called me in to ask about the interview…’ etc. I don’t talk about him much at work – I do everything that I can to avoid reminding the men I work with that I’m a young woman, which having a boyfriend certainly does.
In our social lives we’re much more likely to hang out with people of our own gender. While he has lots of female friends, most of them are attached to a man that he knew first. I have fewer male friends outside of work – my besties are pretty much female.
He is a mild flirt. He has charisma that he’s not fully aware of, and I’ve seen firsthand the effect he has on women. Even with me sitting there. (Coughcoughbitchescough.)
I am a passionate and ambitious flirt. A couple of examples of the things I’ve done at bars while the boy was actually there with me: accept a sip from a stranger’s drink while deciding if I should order it, huddle in the corner with a man I just met listening to his dating philosophy, and … actually, I think that’s enough examples. Because my dad is reading.
Are you waiting to hear why I’m ridiculous, or have you caught on?
I get jealous – he does not. He sees maybe ten women a week who aren’t me and pays them no undue attention – he appreciates them for who they are when they’re worth appreciating and that’s where it stops. I see triple digits of and spend not insignificant amounts of time with men who aren’t him, and have been known to get details of the lives of strange men that their therapists don’t know.
If our places were switched, I would have a little green fit every single day of my life. He sees who I am, knows that I love him and would never do anything to hurt him, and doesn’t give it a thought. I know that he loves me and would never do anything to hurt me, and yet.
Hence, I am ridiculous. He is awesome.