Mr. Nice Hands :)

Alrighty, so I know I said the next five blogs would be about anything else but R and they almost were. Nary a mention and even if I did mention him, it was minute :)

However, tonight I'm compelled. Hence, another installment of the twisted romance that is R and Dakota's. LOL

Indulge me and my tale of Mr. Nice Hands :)

I have the worst ever shoulder/neck ache. It takes a lot to make me squeak, but this'll do it every time. I have occasional trouble and about two times a year, it really gives me grief. I think R's aches rubbed off on me. So last night he calls to see how my day was. We'd spent the night before hanging out late and watching a movie. He slept all day and I woke up with the nagging shoulder thing that got worse as the day wore on.

So he says, "Bun, do ya want me to come over and rub it for you? Lemme take a shower and I'll do that."

I say, "You're tired from a long week and last night, plus your back is still bugging you."

He says, "I'm no worse off than I was. I'll take a shower and come over."

I give in, cuz ANY relief is welcome and he does have magic hands. Mr. Nice Hands can work a kink out of my stiff neck, pronto. I have the usual neck issues because I spend long hours at the comp.

I HATE to be coddled. I'm the worst patient ever. Ala Garbo, "I vant to be left alone." I won't put my misery on you and leave the chicken soup for someone who needs it. I also hate to admit I'm out for the count, it makes me nuts to admit I'm human. I depsise that. LMAO

R shows up, heating pad in hand, movie and popcorn, so when he's done, I can watch a movie and relax.

K, so I just gotta say this--I have the BEST boyfriend ever. I know most of you chicks out there think YOU do, but you're plain WRONG. LOLLOL. I'm sorta kidding :) I'm sure your boyfriends are just peachy--they just aren't R :)

I have little experience with boyfriends. I've had sooo many. LOLLOL. I had one before the ex. It was in HS and he was a running back. We agreed to be steady companions over a pizza bagel and game scores. We went out for a few dates, held hands between classes and then, he kissed me...

That was when it was over. LOL

Then, I met the ex--you know how that went and then, I dated like I was in my 20's for 7 months or so and grew bored after a couple of dates with any one man at any one time.

Nontheless, I know what it is to be treated oh-so wrong and what now, must be very right indeed.

R massaged my neck and shoulder, he babied me, he cuddled me and did all the stuff that normally makes me want to poke someone's eyes out. However, he does it in a way that doesn't make me feel like I owe him. He does it without reminding me how good he is to me or how lucky I am. He does it without making me feel like some weak, assed pansy. A real GIRL, ya know?

So, maybe it's been done wrong all these years? I dunno.

I only know that the stuff that most thought made me happy, just never did. It was never about the stuff I had. The big house, fancy car, snazzy clothes, jewlery and shoes. The status that was shoved down my throat and I was forced to maintain to keep up with the neighbors. None of that ever mattered much. "Things" don't matter much to me.

Sure, I love stuff like most do. I have indulgences. I can stampede with the best of 'em when Vic Secret has the semi annual. I can have every Yankee candle known to man and still want more. I have so much bath and body gel I need a support group for it, but I wasn't above wearing a six pack of Hanes undies if my silky thongs were going to be a thing of the past.

I would have done whatever I needed to in order to make ends meet. Sometimes, even married, I DID. Simply because excess was a lifestyle, but it never filled me up the way I was told it should. The way I was told I should be grateful for.

I always felt like a schlepp because I couldn't see WHY it was so important. If they were things that I enjoyed too, that might have been great, but more often than not, they didn't benefit me, if you know what I mean. The pretty clothes and jewlery were for SHOW and I was the mannequinn. If they were things that were bought because it was given with love, versus showing yer ass, I'd have been all for it. Sadly, it wasn't. It was about power and having them just to have them.

Trouble was, I didn't much want them and if I wasn't grateful enough--then it made me a bad person. I was obligated to show my gratitude for stuff I didn't even want to begin with.

So nowadays, I spend a lot of my time being grateful for people, friendships, Hamburger Helper for crap's sake. it really IS okay to eat that in a pinch for time, I've found.

It's also okay to show affection, genuine concern and understanding without doing much more than just showing up. Without expecting to owe a lung because you took it.

I have a new appreciation for convertible rides that clear my mind of its clutter. I'm ALL about the Aspercream (non heated, soothing balm) these days. LOLLOL. I have a new fondness for sitting in a parking lot in a pimped out van watching a movie and snuggling. I have GREAT appreciation for someone who knows when I'm at my limit and takes the time to care enough to actually want to make it better with the simple things in life that we all take for granted. A smile, a hug, a phone call. A phone call that screams, I just like talking to you, versus I want to suck the life out of you, pay attention to me. An IM that's just a-- how's your day going? Did I tell you how pretty I think you are today, when shit is what ya look like and you damned well know it.

It really takes so little to please me. I demand far more of myself than I do of those around me. Yet, I've never quite experienced this kind of give and take with a man. Though we spend gazillions of hours with each other via many forms of communication, I never feel like R does that because I'm his obligation. God, I hate that word. I hate feeling like one to ANYONE. I hate owing someone ANYTHING. But I don't much feel like that anymore these days.

How many guys will sit on the phone with you for 8 hours and sift through the online Vic Secret catalogue, page by page? Okay, maybe that's a stretch, because there are hotties to be had. LOLLOL But just last night we watched reality TV together--something he doesn't much care for and I dig. Maybe because we can laugh together so much about what's going on--it's more fun. I do the same. I listen to Nine Inch Nails and attempt to forget that the music is so damned dark, I want to end it all when I'm done hearing it, in the most painful of ways. I don't do it because I want to impress him. I'd tell him I loved it if that were the case. I don't. I do it because it interests him and I think that's sickly fascinating. LOLLOL

I don't mind that he digs motocross like not much else. I ENCOURAGE it, in fact. It means I'm not responsible for his reason for living, but it also makes him HAPPY. Why wouldn't I want him to have something that fulfills him like that? Why wouldn't he want the same for me in whatever I do that makes me happy too?

The difference here is, I've learned -- he DOES.

That sorta hit me last night when he let me fall asleep on him and snore. He didn't move me because I was whooped and he'd done his boyfriend duties by rubbing my shoulder, so he could now go home and play with his TIVO. He didn't complain because I'm certain his arm must have fallen asleep. He just let me rest without obligation and I didn't have to thank him profusely for doing it.

I don't quite know why I put the two above thoughts together the way I have here, but it's just how my mind works.

Maybe because it all becomes very clear when you're with the person who understands you best and likes you just the same. Maybe it's because there is no pressure to see each other on a certain day or call at 2:22 in the afternoon on the dot. You just call because you want to. IM because you want to. Or maybe it's because it's sooooo easy to want to spend time with someone who values you and what you mean in their life and SAYS it OFTEN.

I suck at that. Saying it--if it involves me, anyway. You'd think as a writer, I'd be much better at it, but I'm not. I write it in a book--in a blog--in a card. I don't quite know why that is, but for now, that's what it amounts to.

So, I'll say it here.

R is the BEST boyfriend ever and he's good to me in ways he doesn't even know he's being good about. He doesn't take stuff from me. He doesnt' expect stuff from me. He's just all 'round GOOD to me. I try to be as good to him. I'm not sure I'm as easily able to express what he can. But I try in other ways. I left most of my baggage in Cleveland, except the small carry on with the secret side panel. I try to leave that where it belongs--with no return address. Every once in awhile, it comes back to haunt me, but it's rare these days.

The point is, I try and I want to try because he doesn't MAKE me try. I spend a lot of time worrying that if I say it--it means I'm weak--giving in--it'll be used against me in the most heinous of ways. That if we end up dumping each other I can be mocked for it. Silly, I know, but a very real thought from the mind that is Dakota. Yet, I've begun to doubt that theory as of late and that's not an easy thing for me to admit. R knows that and calls me on it, yet he continues to be consistent, attentive, generous with the words I sooooo suck at.

But I'm learning...so here goes...

Did I mention that R is the BEST BOYFRIEND EVER?

I think I just did :)

Dakota :)