The next day, Rob calls and brings up his to-do list on daily calls. He asks how I would feel if he went five days without calling me. I don’t know. Five days? Is that bad? Is it the cut-off? I’ve dated guys I haven’t heard from in weeks.
“How’s your list coming along?” he asks.
It’s weird when you have to write a list of things you want from someone. Where do you start? What’s important to me? “I haven’t started on it yet,” I say.
“You’re not taking this very seriously,” he says.
“Ok, ok,” I say resignedly. “I’ll do it now.”
I hang up, pour a glass of wine and get on my computer. If the universe gave me 30 things I wanted from my man, what would they be? I slowly start typing.
Mind-blowing sex — minimum of four times a week. Out-of-town trips to some beautiful destination — once a month. Dinners, romance and flowers. Lilies preferably; I’m not into roses.
Gifts. My love languages are spending quality time with someone and receiving gifts. But not just any random gifts, they should be thoughtful. Something that shows someone really knows me well. He pays attention to what I say and picks up on what makes me happy. When in doubt, ask me what I’d like. I don’t need to be surprised to enjoy a gift.
Someone who really listens to me and is willing to work things out when we fight. I’m a cancer and extremely moody, so I need one helluva patient man.
Someone who rubs my feet. I’m a sucker for a good foot massage. I need a big hug often. I’ll know we have a good shot of being together forever if we can talk all night and not get bored.
Someone who has a good relationship with his mum but is not a mumma’s boy. If he respects his mum, it means he respects women and will treat me right.
A man who is a protector and provider. Let’s not get it twisted, I have zero interest in taking care of a guy. And all that “Send me credit” mess has got to go!
I’d like a man who is stylish and dresses well. He needs to smell good, too.
I’d like a man with a nice place I can kick it. Not that dump Rob stays in.
I’m not even halfway on this list and I’m already stuck. What else? I stare at 13, unsure of what to write. Isn’t it strange that everyone thinks they know what they want until they actually have to write it down and suddenly their minds go blank? If you had Aladdin’s lamp and your three wishes, what would you ask for?
I’m stick stuck. Dammit! I have no idea what to write. I call Rob. He picks up after one ring. “Hey. Did you write down all 30 already?” I ask.
“Yes,” he responds. “I did it all in 10 minutes.”
“What?” I question incredulously. “What on earth is on your list?”
“No, no, no. That’s not how it works,” he says, laughing. “We exchange our lists at the same time.”
Well, he’s not much help. Sigh. Frustrated, I type:
13) Boyfriends that don’t make me write lists.
Ha ha. To hell with it. I’ll get to the rest later, after a few glasses of wine.