my kind of man

My first complaint in dating an Aussie man: The eating habits.

 

Being Asian, I want my rice. Being Caucasian, he wants his bacon and egg. Or ham and cheese. Or fish and chips. I’m still trying to find that middle ground. Does rice, bacon and egg sounds weird to you all?

 

My first complaint might be my only complaint.

 

It’s not that big deal actually. He will eat anything I cook, whatever ethnic dishes that might be. His favourite is still the barramundi fish curry. And after a while I start to develop a liking for fish and chips and bacon and egg. Since I don’t eat meat this year, I get my bacon from Veggie Delights. What he gleefully call “fake meat”.

 

All complains evaporate after this sweet text

 

 

“Just to have you I think is my blessing / gift.”

 

There are some more after those words but I’m afraid those who reads this blog will first guffaw at the fact that the sarcastic penguin can be tamed and is sappy when this man is mentioned. Then they will puke at the mushiness at the text exchange between her and her said Hero.

 

I have reputations to keep.

 

I’m going to be keeping that text forever! In my years of dating different kind of men, different kinds of characters, I have NEVER received any text like that from any of them. And this is from a man who doesn’t usually have a way with words, which is why I treasure it so much more. He doesn’t usually text unless I text him first. Lately he has been texting me a lot because I was so “emotionally unavailable” the moment Uni starts, and I can see he is trying to tell me that he misses me, but don’t quite know how to say it without being too sappy and obvious and un-macho (men!).

 

In the end when I jokingly mention that I’m not sure if I could come over this weekend or not because I was still busy, he finally pulled on his confessions: he missed me. If I could please come? Even if it’s for one day.

 

Wahahaha! Bulls-eye!

 

He is not a romantic person by nature when it comes to words. He is the kind of man who shows you he loves you by doing things for you, not saying things to you. The kind of man who’d endure your shopping trips even though he loathes it because you like it. The kind of man who’d gobble up your salty plums just because he wants to know what you like about it so much, and hating it but still having something nice to say about it because you like it. The kind of man who’d stay up all night listening to you, despite having to wake at 4am to get ready for work just because you’re crying your eyes out about something. The kind of man, who doesn’t want to make you feel like a slave in the kitchen, therefore sticks around everytime you cook to entertain you and clean up after you. The kind of man who doesn’t allow you to do the dishes if you had been cooking. The kind of man who doesn’t believe that little punk dog should be pampered, but resign to let me pamper it. The kind of man who forbids that said punk dog into his room before he met me (and who disciplined it to just stare from the doorway), and now accept the fact that I love having it with me in bed. The kind of man that insist we lie down on the same small couch under the same small throw rug to watch a movie, despite having two other free couch, with an eager punk dog to boot. It can get really tight there especially when the staffi wants some loving too and end up lying on top of both of us.

 

Actions speak louder than words?

 

I love it.

 

When the clock strikes 4pm and Uni is done for the week, I’d be rushing to the train station.

 

I haven’t seen him for two weeks, and I miss him badly.

 

So everyone, have a nice weekend and see you all when I get back.