How could I have forgotten to write about some of the sweet things he did the last weekend we were together? I have no idea!
First, when I arrived at the house he was in the process of making me chocolate dipped strawberries. That man has memorized my list of 100 things I love. I’m going to have to come up with another list. I may even begin a list entitled, “Things I Would Like To Do,” or “The Most Romantic Things a Man Could Do For Me,” or “Places I’d Like to Go.” He uses it as a Bible, I tell ya! I love that!
I have to laugh at the memory because he told me when I got there that he was hoping he would have more time to get them ready. The problem is he likes to stop every 15 minutes and I don’t stop. So we have Mosey Along Mobster and the Driving Nazi. He’s all like, “Could you not have stopped for a cup of coffee?’ and I’m all like, “But, baby, I wanted to see you! Come on; it was a four and an half hour drive. How many times would I have needed to stop?” Seriously, it works though.
The strawberries were delicious. They were dipped in chocolate and love.
Secondly, the man buttered my roll for me. I was saying he buttered my biscuit but that sounds rather risqué and it was a roll- a yeast roll to be exact. I was messing around on Facebook, asking him if I should say I was checking in to the church we had just gone to even though we weren’t there at that moment, when I noticed him grabbing a roll and buttering it. I figured he was starting to eat, which was perfectly fine. I was messing around on Facebook after all. I ended up “checking in” to the church and then turning around and “checking in” to O’Charley’s. When I finished I noticed I had a buttered roll on my bread plate. I melted. “You buttered my roll for me! You are the best man in the world!”
It really is the little things. He laughs and tells me I’m easily pleased. He also tells me it’s nice to have someone that is so appreciative of these small gestures.
He admits he was very worried in the beginning that he wouldn’t be able to give me all the material things that CF could. He has taken note over the months though that I’m not a materialistic person. Sure, I like having money (who doesn’t?) and I like nice things, but I’ve said many times I would rather live in a one bedroom apartment with the mobster than in a 4000 sq. ft. home with CF. He is getting it. He realizes he doesn’t have to buy me expensive gifts to make me happy. I want the man who butters my roll and knows I love chocolate covered strawberries so he takes the time to buy the ingredients and make them for me. I want the guy who knows that when my cheeks get rosy it’s because I’m getting tired, or I’ve had a single adult beverage (which makes me tired so that’s basically the same thing!). We were just talking and he remarked that my cheeks were getting red so I must be getting tired. Twenty years with CF and I doubt he could tell you one thing like that about me.
I called the mobster after work. I told him I wanted him to tell me everything would be okay and to calm me down. It was not a huge thing. I was overwhelmed with everything that is going to happen this year and trying to figure out how I was going to schedule vacation time to get all these various things scheduled. He did calm me down. He did tell me everything was going to be okay. Had it been CF he would have either rushed headfirst into the crazy, making it two or three times worse, or he would have made fun of me and told me to lighten up, that it was no big deal and not worth stressing over.
For those not in the know, my mobster has his own blog, Divine Doorknobs. That is how we met. You know how WordPress tells you every time someone likes a post or reblogs something you wrote? Well, he liked a post of mine, The Wacky Things Cheating Women Say. It was probably because the post hit home seeing as how he was dealing with his own cheating wife who said her share of wacky things. I did as WordPress suggested and checked out his blog. I was touched by his writing. His story was hopeful at times and then would descend into gut wrenching sorrow. I could identify with so much of what he had written. I commented. He commented back. One comment led to another and he offered to exchange numbers so we could text and vent to one another. Only a day after we began texting he asked me to call him on my lunch hour. I was a little hesitant but I figured, “Why not?” So we talked and that’s how he got his nickname. Days later we video chatted. I was completely charmed. He drove 10.5 hours to meet me, to spend time with me. He made me smile from the day I began talking to him.
Recently he wrote a post about me, about us. It is his love letter to me. Yes, he declared his love for me out there in the blogosphere so everyone would know. Please go check it out at: https://divinedoorknobs.wordpress.com/2018/01/26/5-2017-changed-everything/ I’ve read this entry a half dozen times at least. Every time it warms my heart. He’s an amazing writer himself and I love the way he expresses his feelings for me. I love the fact that he’s willing to share it with the world. For the first time in a very long time I feel completely, blissfully loved.