And somehow, I'm not sick of him.
And even more surprisingly, he's not sick of me.
People ask me all the time if (when) we're getting married. All the fucking time. Like anytime I meet somebody new and they find out I have a boyfriend, the automatic question is how long have I been with him and then, "Woah! And no ring!?"
Like...no, there's no ring. It's also not your damn business if there's a ring or not.
I don't need a ring to be happy with him. I don't need paperwork to say he's mine. I don't need "security" of a marriage license so he'll stay.
Because I already have all of that and more.
If I wasn't happy and had a ring, I would just be unhappy with a ring. Paperwork can legally make him mine, but nothing can make him stay if he doesn't want to. We choose to be together because we want to be, not because of anything else.
And honestly, that's all I need. The thing I want most for us, for anyone in a relationship, is that they feel safe, happy, and loved. I already have that.
If there was a ring? That's cool, but I'd be curious as hell how he knew my ring size when even I don't know that. If there was paperwork? Damnit, I can't even fill out job applications, so I would need 14 people and an instruction manual to help me out.
But all that matters is we're happy. He can still make me laugh, make me happy, make me lose my God damn mind, and make me choose to not murder somebody. It takes a special person to do all that.
And I'm not letting him go.
Now, the next person who asks where my ring is will be dealing with the girl from The Ring, got it?
Today's positive thought: Also, he had no idea I was home so when he came home with food for himself, he gave me half without even thinking. Just to make sure I ate today.