Last night one too many Knickerbockers (my new favourite cocktail - it even beats a Cosmopolitan!) led to me reminiscing about Humbug. It was then that I realised what a fool I have been.
It paralleled the moment in the second Bridget Jones movie when she's at the prison and all the inmates are talking about their abusive exes and she's standing there like a melon and like 'yeah... My boyfriend was pretty bad too' when he was actually perfect compared to them.
In fact, humbug is kinda like a laid-back Darcy.
True, the fact that he's laid back drives me up the wall, but all the other guys' intensity always drove me away. Maybe there's a lot more to our relationship than I originally saw.
So, anyways. There I was: a tipsy gypsy knocking back a cocktail. Then I started thinking about when me and Humbug first properly met. It was at a party and I was apparently all over him, but he refused to take advantage of me because he's an absolute gentleman.
And then I started thinking about all the lovely things about him: the way he brushes my cheek before he kisses me, his adamant refusal to rush me into things because I'm not ready, the way he strokes me hair when I'm tired, the fact we always laugh and have fun in each other's company, the fact that he (unlike all the knobheads of the past) has had girls flinging themselves at him and has pushed them away, saying 'sorry, I have a girlfriend' and his thoughtfulness (he bought me a game boy colour because I'd always wanted one as a kid).
So, all in all. I have the best boyfriend. True, he doesn't buy me flowers and he's a bit flirty with other girls and he treats me like just a friend. But maybe that's just because he doesn't know how to act around me. From now on, I'm going to cut him some slack and just enjoy his company.
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx