Nothing exceptionally traumatic happened, it was just simply one of those days where I rush home in a blur of constant bitch face, counting down the seconds before I can rip my clothes off, eat too much ice-cream and watch the Real Housewives of New Jersey.
(It's cute that you thought I was kidding)
But no matter how bad my day was, I can always count on one shining star. One person who no matter how much everybody else thinks I suck, loves me relentlessly. My little Dominican Dynamo, my Hot Tamale.... my Bodega guy.
He has seen me at my worst. Whether it's after a long day of pointless work and even more pointless exams, or stumbling in with a skirt as long as a snickers bar, smelling of gin and regret, heels the size of a small child, yet he still loves me. He still tells me I'm beautiful as he crams my 23 bags of chips into a shopping bag, he still asks about my nonexistent modeling career as he hands me my $6 "wine product", he constantly asks where my boyfriend is as he ignores the fact this is my second pint of ice-cream in three days and he has even met my mother.
Nothing can destroy our love. The other day he even defended my honor by yelling at a 12 year old for calling me Snow White...I thought I died and went to heaven. I hope one day you find a love like ours but until then I hope this little tale of love, lust and the blending of races gives you hope in your quest.
I think I'm chocolate wasted.
