So I've always wondered...when do men become spoon-feeding, car door-opening, purse-slinging, tampon-buying boyfriends (or husbands)? And what do women have to do to ever acquire the privilege of having a special someone as such?
I look around and observe...
I see them and wish...
But what I have is neither of those...
I eat on my own. I need to ask how is his food before I even get an offer of a morsel. And I don't get the "spoon-feeding". I get the "plate-nudge" as if to signal-here take some if you want to.
I open my own doors. It is, after all, the 21st century. Women's Lib, I assume. I can open my own door. And even if I have 50 thousand things in my hands/shoulders/elbows, I will open my own door.
I carry my own purse. And if i ask...I get the WTH look or the shoe-tap as if to say "hurry up, people are looking". I understand, because carrying my purse around during shopping days would probably equate an hour of lifting weights at the gym. My house is inside my Juicy's.
I buy my own tampons...enough said.
Yet I look at them and continue to wonder...ARE THEY REALLY HAPPY? Because after a long time, in a VERY, VERY LONG TIME...I can finally say that I AM HAPPY. And I don't mind feeding myself, it is my body that requires sustenance. Or opening my own doors, I do want to get in. Even carrying my own purse, I need everything inside within my reach. And buying my own you-know-what, I have to have supply on a monthly basis. I would rather do these things for myself, on my own, independently...than lose my happiness. Because at the end of the day, when my eyes start gravitating towards the floor and my body starts feeling the wear and tear...all I need is you right beside me. And waking up to a new day with you still beside me, makes all the work I do for myself...seem like as normal as breathing.
I am happy. And I'd rather have you than any of them. Happy birthday.