It’s to my understanding that I’ve failed in the regularly scheduled updates department. Naturally, you’d assume that it’s because I’ve pussed out, settled into a serious relationship, and have nothing to write about anymore because things have become monotonous. I’ll assure you that shit, in fact, has NOT gotten as boring as we’d all have expected it to at this point in the relationship.
I know I used to brag all the time about how I thought I was such a bad ass, bedding random tramps left and right. Some may take the polite road and call me “reformed.” while others might call me a slave to pussy now that I‘ve asked Liv to move into my apartment.
Liv is still a crazy bitch. I’m still a motherfucker… the dogs seem to be the only sane ones and that’s cuz they give one another blowjobs and taste their own assholes, which says a lot about how fucked up we still are.
*******************
Monday, May 23
For starters, it was my birthday. Our birthday. Both of us are turning 29 this year and we were ironically born only hours apart if only because of the different time zones. I know what you’re thinking!
After a day of fun filled activities with friends and such, we get home -- my home -- and I take a seat on the couch. Weeks earlier, I had been in the market shopping for the perfect Liv-worthy ring. Deciding it’d be better to spring it on her as a gift as opposed to a random, meaningless occasion, I get comfortable in my underclothes as I contemplate when I should bring the sucker out.
“I’ve got something for you…”
“A striptease? I demand whipped cream,” she responded
“Do we have any left after last time,” I asked. Contrary to popular belief, we aren’t always sexing it up. In fact, I don’t even think we’ve ever utilized whipped cream for any sexual adventures before.
Hitting me back with, “I think so. So, are you gonna get up and take your clothes off or what?”
“Absolutely not. Are you?”
“You’re supposed to have something for ME!” By now, she’s sitting beside me on the couch as she waits for me to give her what I’ve apparently got. “Banana hammock?” You’d think that Liv is always serious and stoic and professional but she’s not. She’s the biggest goof ever.
For a minute I toy with her emotions. I bait her with Are you ready? Are you ready? You sure? until she beats me and demands to see. Finally, I produce the small, blue snap box. With a small bow around it, I recall I held it in the middle of my palm for her to just look at it, like I’d just found a handful of pirate coins I wanted her to check out. As nerve racking as it may have been, I open the box and showed her the ring I’d gotten for her.
“It’s not as grand as yours,” I started, “But I think it says enough. You know what this means right?”
“That you have impeccable taste in fine jewelry? Or did you bang the counter-girl?”
“I did no such thing. She was giving me the eye but I was like WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA, I’VE GOT LIV THANK YOU VERY MUCH.”
“Was she?”
“You wear this ring around EVERYWHERE.” I began taking it out. “When dickheads come up to you, put your hand in their faces. BAM! HE LIKES IT SO HE PUT A RING ON IT.”
“That only counts when it’s an engagement-slash-wedding ring.”
“Well, who says it isn’t an engagement-slash-wedding ring?”
She stopped for a second before finally answering. “Well…” She paused again. “You’re usually supposed to say so. There‘s also that whole down on one knee thing. And, you get the picture..”
“I think we both know I’m not very traditional…”
“What’re you saying?”
“What AM I saying?”
“You tell me.”
And then that’s when I played the worst trick ever. EVER. Worse than the time in high school when I scared a trailer park child with the green mask from the Jim Carrey movie.
“Sucker.”
“Figured,“ Immediately, she got up and walked off; disappeared into the kitchen under the presumption that she was thirsty. Four things were wrong with that:
1. Nobody’s ever thirsty so suddenly.
2. Her choice of word and tone behind it.
3. The Flash speed at which she moved, leaving the ring behind.
4. She refused to let me touch her whatsoever immediately after (evident by the world’s roughest lady-shove I‘ve experienced to date.)
So, I counted to four and got up to follow her into the kitchen, ring box in hand. I tried to open up the possibility of apologizing to her for my dickery by kissing her on the cheek but she wasn’t having that.
“Olivia!” I followed her around the island counter, walking on the opposite side to meet her on the other side and back her up to keep her from running out of the apartment or something. “I get it. Bad move. Not a cool joke and I’m sorry.”
I felt my heart sink at the patheticness of her teary eyed stare when she looked up at me. Not pathetic as in poor dog with a broken leg limping around the street but pathetic as in down and out. “No you don’t.”
“I didn’t when I was making it but that’s because I’m an asshole. I do now. It was a shitty thing to do…”
“How could you do that? You just sat there and… Why? I didn’t ask for an engagement. I didn’t even expect it. Did I do something to deserve being the punch line to you?”
“No, you didn’t do anything. I took it too far. I promise it won’t happen again.” It seemed my limited consoling abilities and even scarcer emotional range weren’t enough to keep up with her hurt. Nonetheless, the ever flowing waterworks gave my hands something to keep up with.
“I have to go.”
“Where?
“I don’t know. Home..”
“Look, sometimes I’m a little out of line. I was an asshole and I'm sorry for baiting you like that. I'd fully understand if I wake up tomorrow with my dick cut off." I grabbed the box from the counter behind us and brought it back to her, opening it up once again.
“I got this for you for your birthday. It can serve as an engagement ring or, if you're not ready, it can simply be a token of how much you mean to me."
"I didn't even realize I might have wanted it until it was there .. and then gone again." She frowned. "I'm not the one who's not ready," she started, sniffling a bit. "Maybe you'll never be. Who knows." She shrugged. "Either way, I never wanted you to think you had to propose to me. Like this, or for any reason."
"I'll propose to you because I want to. Not because I have to."
She glanced down. "If that day ever comes, then .. I'll say yes."
"At the very least you can come over here with me, instead of living over there." With that, I weasled the ring onto her finger.
"Come over here with you?"
"If you'd like..."
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you bring your toothbrush and all your clothes over here.”
“And leave the animals to fight over who eats who first?”
“You can bring them too.”
“Are you saying this because you feel guilty or because you want me here?"
“Of course I want you here. You spend more nights over here than not. Bring your stuff.
Leave the one called Tori behind, though.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as you can handle my morning breath.”
That night, there was no animal sex. Hell, there was no sex of any kind. We just got comfortable and went to bed. When the next day came, it was off to work in the morning and by the end of that night I had a small Chihuahua named Harvey Dent and a German Shephard named Cassius jumping off MY COUCH, running away from the sight of nasty animal, wall-sex.
