Love actually...

Today I found this post in one of my favorite blogs and it reminded me of this article I read the other day when I was dropping Nic off at the airport...so much truth in both dspite the fact that one talks about love and the other about sex.

So I started thinking, fairly globally though becauseI had both the post and article as reference this time, about a question that I have been asked repeatedly since I started this blog and felt the need to bitch repeatedly about someone I should have ocassionally sang praises to...

the question: Why are you so into HWMNBN if he is such an asshole?

I always chose to ignore this question because you know what you know and sometimes it's hard to answer something one can't even answer oneself. Maybe because it doesn't sound pretty enough, though often times it is because those moments that count aren't easily described. But just now, reading this, I think I found the answer and in the hopes that nobody will ever question my affections ever again (which they better not because it's none of their business) I will tell you this:

Love is inconvenient and that day at the Delano I didn't exect to fall in love; yet I did. Ocassionally I wake up unable to breathe or to someone kissing my shoulder and I think that there is nowhere else I'd rather be. Sometimes I have arguments over my eternal need to eat and then sometimes when I am pissed off because spending a Sunday together implies that I have to be woken up at 7am I think about that argument and smile. I think about obscene amounts of money spent at the hairdresser and then an hour later ending up soaked because being wet (no pun intended) is simply fun and then there is, of course, that issue about ESPN when all you want to do is anything but.

...but when I am unwell (though it may be his fault) and I need taking care of, there he is.

I think about the bad but then there is the good which is so much more. SO much more intense. And it's easy to point fingers and say "it's him" and when I think of our history, I am not so sure. Before it was me, then there was him, then now nobody knows but it's okay because I dont' want any more than I've got. I like to be fed stuff I don't eat like those beef empanadas that kept me sick for 2 days. There is a certain comfort in finding a random email reminding me that I am "la nina bella". Even if I know deep down that I may not be.

Perhaps we don't have the perfect relationship, and maybe we never will. Maybe he'll find someone better or I'll find someone better. Either way, despite the fact that we've hard our issues and that we've both wished that the other was with someone who could maybe make them happier, or simply that we had never met, I know that our lives when intertwined they are good; and drama or not, even when I know that right now I'd much rather be alone, I wouldn't have it any other way.