He asked me that yesterday when he was driving me home. It caught me off guard. No, I don’t think we’re boring. And then I panicked. Wait, does he think we’re boring? I asked him. No, he doesn’t. (I asked him again 12 hours later just to make sure.)

So, why do you ask that? Someone said we were. Who? I don’t remember. Liar. Who? Jeff. He said we were very black and white as a couple. What did he mean by that? That we’re predictable.

Maybe we are a little predictable. Maybe we look a little boring to other people. Neither of us has a whole lot of money to go places and he doesn’t have a whole lot of time either just now, so we mostly end up just chilling at home. I don’t mind that. I like going out and I would like to do more with him—museums, movies, the zoo, the park, dinner, whatever—but I’m also happy to to stay in. Spending the morning in bed, watching him cook for me, and talking shit to him or just reading while he plays video games is fun. I like it. I like just being with him, so it really doesn’t matter what we’re doing. 

Besides, what’s so bad about predictability? I’m pretty much a homebody at heart. For all that I like travel and moved a lot growing up, all I want in life is a stable home. And I’ve seen some of the relationships our friends have, that some of my friends have had throughout the years— breaking up and getting back together every few months, loud, angry fights, and a week of silence afterwards. I don’t want that.  So predictable is fine with me, thank you very much. Surprise me every once in a while, but for the day-to-day of it all, I want someone I can count on. It’s not boring, it’s safe.