You’re the Real MVP

13 Mar You’re the Real MVP

If you know me, you know what a problem this is. Imagine your song comes on and someone insists on talking through your favorite part.

That’s how I felt.

The whole movie. 

Don’t worry, he won’t know that I’m telling you this.

He sensed my annoyance with him and a very healthy convo came from that moment. To me it should have been obvious, but you know, he’s a man, so maybe he needed to hear me actually say, you’re going to take an interest in things important to me and I’m going to do the same for you.

So far, so good.

He finally saw Love Jones. I’ve seen Syriana. I’m reading Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, and he, well, he reads my blog.

He read the entire thing. The posts I’m not so proud of, the ones that may be about other men, the ones I wrote about him—all of them. When he compliments my site or a particular post, as I do with most things, I said something to downplay it, this time mentioning how I wished my photos were better.

He said he’d help. I appreciate how my blog seems to be improving because of it (and him).

I think we have a really interesting dynamic. We can talk about any and everything, we often do, and practically nothing is off limits when it comes to jokes. Anything goes in the name of a good laugh. Because of this comfort we have with each other, his commentary as he takes my pictures, sometimes catches me off guard.

“Babe, suck in! No, I’m not trying to tell you anything, just suck in.”