The Good, the Bad, and the Heinously Ugly (of relationships)

I have decided to share some cruelly intimate details about being in a relationship. I have had
a lot of dating experience, enough to make a girl cry, really, but now that I've been with the same guy for almost a year, I am finding dating was a cakewalk in comparison. I've split up the writing into the Good, the Bad, and the Heinously Ugly, in hopes that you can excavate any truths that apply to you. Oh, and I want you to smile, and maybe grimace, but mostly smile after reading.

 Let's start with the Good....so as not to frighten anyone.

The GOOD:

The best part of relationships are nights like last night, when I had the worst cramps imaginable, similar to elephants playing hopscotch on my ovaries, and my boyfriend was willing to rest his warm hand on my hip as we lay together, to act as a human heating pad....I mean, I know this wouldn't make it in a RomCom or anything, but dang, that is love in the best way. Another good thing about being in love is knowing that your boyfriend has agreed to fly 1,000 miles to meet your family, go to a wedding with you, all to let you know he cherishes you. In one week Joey will fly to Denver to meet not only my parents, but my sister, her husband and two kids, as well as my grandma and uncle. Did I mention that almost all these people are living in the same house for the summer, that Joey and I will also stay in? I'm not going to lie to you, if the situation was reversed, I'd be downright terrified. I know that my family is wonderful, but they are also loud, in your face, and so sarcastic that my mom has nearly made a couple of my friends cry when she was very obviously (in my daughter opinion) joking. Another lovely thing about relationships is knowing that someone is so connected with your life. Often, while we are watching TV, I'll start rambling about work or friends and "Oh my GOSH!" statements, and he just politely pauses and turns, to listen to whatever ridiculous nonsense I care to sputter, with a smile on his face. I mean, it's enough to make me feel almost borderline interesting. Though, I know, he is more or less bound to listen to me as long as we're together and at this point, he knows everyone so he is ready to give his feedback, sometimes with an ever-growing finger wag that makes him border on sassy (clearly a sign of me hanging out with teens too much and him hanging out with me too much).

The BAD:

 Well I'll just come right out and say it: vacations suck now. I really can't go on a vacation now without thinking, wow, Joey would really like it here.....or, HEY there's a brewery over there he'd ADORE! It's pathetic, and embarrassing, really, because I used to travel all over the world alone. I got on a plane, alone, to Prague, Peru and Ireland. While everyone else I studied abroad with went together on trips for spring break, I was dreaming of Irish countrysides and juicy evenings curled up with a book all by myself. Me, with a backpack and a plane ticket was all I needed in the world to survive (and avocados, I always need those to survive). And you know what? I am also a LOT needier now. I used to hear these girls talk about how they have to see their boyfriends ALL the time and in my head I was really thinking, that's sort of sad for you...to be so needy....little Ms. Independent would NEVER need to see a man so much...and yet here I am, needing to see him so much that I might as well be renting my room out to earn extra cash. The scariness of love is also bad. That fear that someone really knows you, really sees you, and that one day they may decide to stop loving you. Or, that something could happen to them, and you'd have to actually learn something about cars instead of relying on them to do all of the maintenance. Of course, most of the bad here is good....because hey, it really isn't that bad, at the end of the day, to love and be loved. But still, my cool independent lady points, which once were a reasonable amount, are slowly flopping out of my piggy bank onto the floor.

The HEINOUSLY UGLY:

Alright, here's when it gets real. I think most of you can relate to this, and if you can't than I'm going to be forced to think you're either lying or have struck upon a grace that I really hope to find one day. Let me start with this little gem of a story: I am trimming Joey's hair, already terrified of the device and possibility of slicing him Sweeney Todd style, when I trim to high above his ear and give him a straight up bald spot. Suddenly my handsome boyfriend looks more like a mauled hick. He actually screeches when he looks at his own reflection. And then, what do I do? Well, I'll tell you what I didn't do, which is apologize and rub his back, gently telling him he still looks like a character from a Harlequem Romance novel. No, I ran to the bed (his, mind you), jumped under the covers, cried and refused to let him coax me out of my shameful cocoon. Did this last for a few minutes, you ask? Oh no, we're talking about an hour, at least. I haven't actually run and hid from someone since the days my sister would chase me, screaming, up that stairs while my grandma babysit us as kids.

The truth is, when you're in a relationship, all your worst qualities are reflected back at you. How jealous you can be, how vein, how pouty, how stubborn, how unbelievably naggy you can be while all the while, as a single gal, you go around thinking how crazy these girls in relationships are and that you certainly would NEVER be like them. Well, folks, now I'm in the club. I have said things like, "It would be great if you could stop doing that," and also things like, "Could you maybe wear this instead?" I bitch at him about all these things and somehow he still wants to spend time with me and hold me during the whole movie. It amazes me. When we are at the bar and a guy looks at me or talks to me, he is relatively unfazed. Meanwhile, one time a female bartender in booty shorts and cutoff shirt smiled at him and said, "Hey Joey, how's it going?" there was honestly a dark forest that grew inside me, wishing that she would maybe fart while stacking glasses or something so that I wouldn't be continuously blown over and irritated by her overall hotness.

 Luckily, I have a guy who doesn't let me storm out of the room or house when all I want to do is not face the problem and just run and hide. He gently reaches for my arms, guides me to the couch and makes me look at him and talk through it. I think Webster's Dictionary would define this as: maturity. I thought I was mature, I mean, all day I keep kids on task and cluck at them to follow school rules. I pay my bills. I cook from scratch (sometimes) and know how to properly set the dinner table. I have an AMAZON account, for goodness sake, how much more mature can it get? It turns out, I have an emotional age of about thirteen. It's like the opposite of dog years. I don't know how some people are so mature in relationships, but I'm grateful they are, because even though I'm getting better at not shutting down and crawling into holes only Batman would find interesting, I still am a child when it comes being in love.

I suppose that is the fun, though. Learning each others most obnoxious qualities and then figuring out how to maneuver around them, almost like the Matrix and bullets. Joey has learned to tickle my feet, in moments of tension, and I have learned to poke his face when he is looking glum or is being particularly irritating. I guess it is the fighting within yourself, that realizes that it's nice to have something worth fighting for. And, better yet, it's nice to have someone in the ring with you, after many years of you against the world, even if at times you want to jab the other person :)