After more than a two-year hiatus, Roberto swept in for the weekend to show me how much he loves me. And boy did he ever love me. That man made love to me, fucked my brains out, cooked for me, wined and dined me, did the dishes, bought me groceries, rubbed my back, complimented me, watched me sleep, cried with me, and just generally made sure I was happy.
It did me a world of good. In a mere three days, he miraculously healed nearly all of the hurtin’ that Tristan put on me over the past few years.
It’s amazing the difference I feel being with a man who loves me as opposed to one who doesn’t. It totally reorganized my thinking. I feel almost like a new woman. A few more days with Roberto, and I think I would be as good as new again.
Of course it’s more complicated than that. (shocker, I know) After all, complicated is THE ONLY word to describe my most serious romantic relationships.
Roberto and I have known each other for nearly 15 years. It was love at first sight for me. I knew the moment I saw him and he opened his mouth to speak, that he was someone I WOULD be getting to know better.
Roberto is in a “semi-open marriage.” He and his wife haven’t had sex or shared a bed for nearly 20 years, and he has told her he doesn’t have a problem with her seeing other people. She, however gets jealous of me. He has told her he loves me, so of course she is jealous. I would be jealous too! Roberto is an absolute gem of a man, not to mention that I am much younger than her.
Roberto melts my heart with his dashing good looks and flickering big black eyes. His high, chiseled cheekbones and wide square jaw sporting a few days of sexy scruff, his salty short hair and lean muscled body all speak to me on a very deep and raw level.
More important than his physical attributes though, he really knows how to treat a woman right. He has always handled me like a princess, and I truly feel like one in his presence. He has been there for me through thick and thin, (and thin and emaciated). He stuck with me long after I told him it was over for good (when I fell in love with Tristan). He never left me, never lost hope, and never stopped loving me. He said he never could, that I am a part of him. This weekend he proved that to me once again.
As we were snuggling together on my living room couch, laughing and chatting comfortably about everything under the sun, I suddenly felt complete joy and fulfillment. Not wanting to miss out on the moment, I playfully slid off the couch, got down on one knee and asked coquettishly, “Will you marry me?” His black eyes twinkled sweetly as his hearty chuckle rang out freely and his strong voice mightily said “Yes!” So I guess all he needs now is a divorce.
Wouldn’t it be great if it were really that simple?