d is for... dean.
yep, the big reveal. that's his name. boyfriend, that is. for as long as i've had this here blog, i haven't yet used his name. i don't know why. i think a lot of blogs that i've read referred to their significant other in generic terms, i guess to keep some level of privacy. i suppose i was just keeping with tradition.
anyway. you will have read a bit about dean in the post i wrote for our anniversary last year. if you haven't, here's the abridged version: we met at work; we both started working there within a few weeks of each other (me first, naturally), and for the first month or so, i thought he was a creep. after one (messy) night at the pub, he got my number. and then added me on facebook. then texted me all the time. and used to email me at work. and.. it was a lot of unwanted attention. try as i might to push this guy away, there was no stopping him.
one night at the pub we had a massive row - the first of literally thousands since, and he basically told me to stop being a coward, and to just give him a chance. well fine. what other choice did i have?! we went on a date and talked for hours about stuff i had no idea he was interested in. after lunch, we went for drinks. we ended up at a sports bar showing a really important football game, and he sat with his back to the tv. so romantic!
that it was it really. from there, we were inseparable. we spent our time between my awful flat and his big and empty flat, and then three months later, got our first flat together. yep, that quickly. he's the easiest person to get along with, and he puts up with a lot of drama. see, i like to raise my voice, a lot. and usually irrationally, and he very rarely bites. i think he likes the button pushing... i hope he does, because he doesn't deserve it.
he's the nicest guy i've ever met. he makes the best roast i've ever had (sorry mum). he's got great taste in music, but is the worst dancer. he always helps me put my jacket on. he secretly dresses to match what i'm wearing; there's no way that's a coincidence, it happens too often. he thinks he's a rockstar when he's singing along to buble in the shower. he's terrible at buying presents, but awesome at stealing flowers. and making birthday cards. he's bad with money, but excellent at keeping my bed warm. and buys me shoes, and cheeseburgers and marshmallows and make me tea on saturday mornings.
i'm not gonna sit here and tell you why my boyfriend is better than yours... he just is. especially because he lets me have the girliest bedspreads you've ever dreamed of, and never complains.
i'm not gonna sit here and tell you why my boyfriend is better than yours... he just is. especially because he lets me have the girliest bedspreads you've ever dreamed of, and never complains.
*a-z of me is a weekly series created because i thought it might be a good way for you to get to know me a little bit better.. outside of the general nonsense and backwards mirror pictures anyway.. to follow the rest of the series, click here.
