My boyfriend.
It's been awhile since I've had to say that. Sure, I know girls who drop the line every chance they get. 'My boyfriend this, my boyfriend that.' Yes, I get it, my jealous single self would say. You like your fucking boyfriend. Can I just give him a name? Tom does this, Bob does that.
Obviously, I haven't really been one of those people to sprinkle every conversation with tidbits of my significant other.
So when on Friday, I managed to work in the fact that yes, I was seeing someone, to the new guy at work my lips felt awkward as they formed the words. For how short the word was, my tongue was tied in knots.
That's not to say that it was wrong, or it felt wrong in any sense. I adore The Boy, I'm extremely happy with what we have. However, referring to him as anything but his name... or in these rare cases as 'The Boy' on this blog, I don't really need to have the title waved around.
Perhaps part of it has to do with the circumstances that formed such a relationship. I mean, to say that our relationship was birthed on pure support from everyone in our lives would be a straight up lie. It was hard, it was bitter, angry, stressful and dramatic--a fact I believe that I've pointed out before. I'm not about to start opening old wounds or picking at scabs just to mention my personal life to someone else. It's not worth it--for either of us.
I suppose the other part of it is that for the most part, anyone important in my life knows that I'm dating. I don't say 'my boyfriend' to R or say 'well, my boyfriend and I are doing this' to C. They know him, they like him, they're friends with him, they hang out with him. So it's a rare time where I can take the opportunity to drop the B-word.
While the opportunities are few and far between though, despite the awkwardness or the weird feeling of it on my lips, it did still feel pretty damn good to be able to say that. To claim him, to label him, to be like yeah, I'm taken and so's he.
Boyfriend.
Yeah, I can get use to that.
*like* x10
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