I’m turning into a housewife more and more each day. Like clockwork, I telephoned the BF yesterday afternoon to ask him where he’s at. He told me he left work a few minutes late and he’ll be with me shortly. When I opened the door, he gave me three gargantuan red roses about the size of my fist — the first time he bought me flowers (shock horror!) after almost nine months of being in a relationship together. Biological females probably have it lucky for getting flowers sooner but alas, that’s how the gays roll.
I guess that’s the thing about relationships. Both parties have to put in some effort. Both have to do whatever it takes not to give up on each other.
There are times when I want to pinch myself, wondering whether what I have is real or not because it’s too good to be true. But it is.