It was barely 7:00 am on a weekday in those post-college, but pre-career days. A job, but not every day. More nights out than in. No 24/7 responsibilities yet.
I had just finished my second degree (the one that would actually get me a j-o-b outside of temping), and had recently ended a 2-year relationship with a guy I thought I wanted to marry.
Then I met The Husband. OMG, he was fun. I was on a date with a friend of his when I met him. And that was all she wrote for The Friend (who was just an in-between, killing-time kind of relationship anyway).
The Would-Be Husband was handsome, he was razor-sharp witty and could make me laugh. Hard. When he kissed me, I could not breathe, it was that amazing. Nobody has kissed me like that before or since. He was totally into me, and played no Typical Boy maybe-I-like-you games. He was in. I was almost in, and it had been maybe 2 weeks -at the most- since I'd met him.
And then 2-Year Guy came back.
And I got confused. I mean, I had TWO YEARS with this man. A relationship. History. Loved his family. And I barely just met The Would-Be Husband. Logic was leaning against him after so little time.
So. I explained to Would-Be Husband about the Return of Two-Year Guy. And then I couldn't stop thinking about him, so I called him the next morning at o'dark-thirty and his roommate answered (sorry, man). Then Would-Be Husband got on the line with his deep, I-don't-even-sound-like-I've-slept-at-all voice.
I was hoping it would be you, he said.
Isn't there someone in your past that you broke up with and later said "oh, sh!t" about?, I asked him.
There was.
Well, I explained, he is my "oh, sh!t" guy, and now he wants back in.
And Would-Be Husband said, But I might be your "oh, fcuking sh!t" guy.
