I know that I use this blog to bust Jessie’s balls a lot.  I know that my friends and I mercilessly tease him about his uncanny ability to attract gay men while at the same time repelling nearly every straight woman.  What can I say?  I’m the girl who picks on the boy on whom she crushes.

I’ve spent my entire adult life with Jessie (I was 18 when we started dating) and we’ve both come such a long way, both as individuals, but also as a couple.  I honestly don’t know exactly how I’ve changed in these almost 9 years.  My perspective on myself is sometimes a little warped.  But I know how Jessie has changed.  What I started dating was a 19 year old guy who still played with action figures and slept with stuffed animals.  This guy was immature even for a 19 year old guy.  This guy was insensitive to other’s feelings.  This guy was self-centered and unkind quite often.  This guy did dumbass things quite regularly for no other reason than to be the center of attention.  This guy accidentally called me the names of his exes and vehemently denied it afterwards.  This guy had no idea how many times I sat looking at him trying to find the words to break up with him.

But, as time went on, we had quite a lot of “sit down” talks.  He hurt my feelings one too many times and got the point that you don’t act that way to someone you care for.  He pushed me aside one too many times and saw how I felt that I wasn’t a part of his life.  He embarrassed me in public one too many times and saw that maybe that’s not the kind of person he wanted to be.  Little by little, the bad stuff gave way to what I have now.  A (still quite annoying) guy who understands that he must think of how his actions affect those close to him.  A guy who understands that love means giving up a little bit of himself in order to make it work.  I’ve got a good one.  Maybe one of the few real good ones out there.

I can spend days on end just completely irritated with him.  But when I get in bed at night and snuggle with his back, I know that I’m stuck in this.  I can’t help it.  I love him.

But you came here to read a story that will make you laugh hysterically, didn’t you?  Ok.  Today’s Ridiculous Jessie Story took place in 2001.  We hadn’t been together for very long.  One night we were in his room messing around (still fully clothed).  He was on top of me and I was noticing that he was moving around an awful lot.  I tried adjusting myself so he’d stop moving so much, but he just kept moving.  Then I realized what was going on.  I realized what he was doing.

He was humping my leg.

Not as a joke.

For real.

I stopped and said to him, “What are you doing?!?!”

He got a little mad at me and said, “What?  It FEELS good!”

“Oh my God,” I thought.  “He was just caught humping my leg like a lowly junkyard dog and his only excuse is that it feels good?”

I told him that I was suddenly not feeling very well and excused myself to the bathroom where I sat in horror for a few minutes before a terrible fit of laughter overcame me.  My boyfriend was humping my leg and didn’t have sense enough to be embarassed when I called him on it.  What the hell kind of person was I dating?

I ended up spending the night with him anyway.  He was there, what the hell.

I was talking with Jessie about this incident this morning and having a good laugh at his expense when he said to me,

“I think I need to impose a statute of limitations on all of the stupid thing’s I’ve done.”

If only you could, honey.  If only you could.