I'm in deep trouble.
There's this guy. [insert sigh sounds here]
I know him through a friend. He has eyes as blue as the sky; piercing, mesmerizing and sometimes sad-looking eyes. I''ll name him Mister Turquoise, since that's my favourite colour.
Mister Turquoise is almost six years older than I am. His age is not a big deal, but, the thing is, he's married. Kind of. He broke up with his (soon to be ex-)wife just a few months ago, and is waiting for the divorce to be final. They were together for over seven years. She moved out a while ago, he stayed in their old apartment.
I've met him a few times, and there's this weird electricity between us. He looks at me like he knows all my secrets - and like he really needs to tell me his. I tried to scare him away by telling him my story, but for some reason he's not freaking out at all. I told him that my heart was melt to stone by a few idiots, I'm ruined, spoiled, I don't trust men at all. But I trust him. Such a scary feeling.
I'm a bit afraid that he'll use me as a rebound girl, a band-aid to soothe his pain. I asked him a million times about that. His answer is usually that I'm way too precious to be a band-aid. If I was a rebound girl, I wouldn't know anything about his past. Sex isn't the main thing in our weird little relationship either. Yeah, I guess that makes sense.
This is where I usually run. Why am I not lacing up my sneakers already?
Because he's serious boyfriend/husband/father of my future children material. And I hate it. He's the kindest guy I've met so far. He makes me happy with all these small things: he sends me goodnight texts, he opens doors for me and is sincere in all his tiny remarks about me. I love the way he brushes a few loose strands of hair from my face, how his beard tickles my neck when he's spooning me (apparently I'm into guys and beards - look at that picture of Ryan, ha-ha), how he smiles at me when he notices that I'm awake, how his hand gently touches mine as I'm making coffee in the morning. He helps me with stuff around my flat, takes care of my car and is such a sweetheart.
But why am I still thinking of Mister Yellow when I'm with Mister Turquoise? Too many men, too little time.
My brother's advice: "Sis. Dump him and run". Maybe next week.