I may have told Brown Eyes I wanted to have kids on date two but he told me he loved me on date three. Yep, that actually happened. He wins. Our battle of crazy is going into overtime and it’s starting to hit even crazier new heights.

We were on the couch, naked, wrapped up in each other, basking in a post-orgasmic glory. He was spooning me from behind, his big, hairy, tattooed arms wrapped around me really tight. He took a deep breath, taking in the perfume still lingering in my hair, before exhaling loudly.

“God I fucking adore you. I love you.” 

There’s no real way to deal with that on the third date so I ignored it, kissed his arms, and snuggled myself back into him further. We’ll deal with this in the morning.

*****

He wakes me up by fucking me gently in our spooning spot and when he knows I’m getting close, he flips me over to fuck me missionary-style, spreading my legs and using his hands on my clit, watching the length of him slide into me. That always makes him cum really hard. He loves to watch that. I love it when he tells me how much he loves it. I also love it when he pulls out and finishes over me, scrunching his nose and closing his eyes in that way he does.

He’s a morning person. I’m not a morning person. I’ll let you work out how that goes at 8am. Although it’s funny how much of an almost-morning person I am when I’m woken up the right way… But yes, he was making me breakfast as I lay zombie-like on his couch. We get up to drink tea and watch Jeremy Kyle because that’s what we do, usually wrapped up in his massive duvet which I’ve sleepily dragged from the bedroom to the living room.

“I said a thing last night and I’m sorry because I know it made you uncomfortable. I just couldn’t keep it to myself. I don’t want to either. I fell in love with you on our first date, I do believe in love at first sight because I’ve met you. I love you, your mind, your body, everything. You are my perfect woman. You make me laugh so much, smile too, and you make me cum hard. Plus… that blowjob. No other woman is ever going to make me feel like you do. What’s the point in looking? I’ve got everything I want right here. I told you, I’m going to make you my wife.” 

Right, well he’s actually gone and brought it up face to face now hasn’t he? I can’t avoid it when he’s staring at me from his kitchen, the smell of bacon wafting through the open-plan space. Feed me bacon and I’ll tell you anything you want.

“I can’t talk about this right now. I need to process this, write about it, analyse it a million times over in my head before deciding that firstly, you’re crazy and secondly, you’re probably just my kind of crazy. You’ve dropped the L-bomb on our third date babe, and there was the tattoo after our first. I’m not even awake yet. Jeremy Kyle hasn’t finished yet. I haven’t drank my tea yet. Be quiet and make me bacon.” 

He laughed and padded over to me in his Minion slippers, planting a kiss on my forehead and then my nose.

“Whatever. I know you love me. You just don’t know it yet.”

What the fucking fuck is happening? Erm hello? Is anyone else hearing this? HE TOLD ME HE LOVED ME ON OUR THIRD DATE. Am I that good at giving head? Maybe I should have entitled this post, “One blowjob from me and I’ll make you fall in love!”. I’m sorry, I’m joking about this. It’s hardly something to joke about. He told me he loved me on our third date. Okay, one second, I just need to laugh one more time and then I’ll get all serious.

Serious… 

How the hell can you be so sure you love someone after three dates? We’d spent 38 hours together. I’ve always said that I wouldn’t and couldn’t tell someone I loved them unless I absolutely, 100% couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. I will only say it when it’s literally bursting from every inch of me, when it’s the only thing in my head, when it’s the only thing I can think to say. I didn’t feel like that about Someone New in eight months of dating. Oh, and then three months of re-dating six months after we broke up. I never felt like I wanted to say it to him. He never, ever made me feel like that.

But what if it was bursting out of Brown Eyes? What if it was the only thing he could think about, the only thing that could come out of his mouth? What if, and let’s just put aside how ridiculous this sounds for a moment, he really is that sure about me? What if he really knows I’m the “perfect” woman for him and the one he’s going to marry? Clearly this isn’t something he’s felt for another woman before because he’s never been married before. He’s never gone out and got a crazy tattoo after a first date before. Maybe he just knows?

Or maybe he’s just crazy? Surely that makes me crazy by proxy by playing along with this charade? But before you laugh at me, let me just tell you this – it feels as if we have been dating a hundred years already. We’re so comfortable around each other. I have no nudity fears, no makeup-free fears, no insecurities… It’s like we’ve already dated, as though we’re slipping back into each other’s lives rather than just entering them for the first time. I can’t tell you how beautiful it is, how refreshing it is. He’s honest, I’m honest, no games, no muss, no fuss. Plus it’s working. It’s actually working. We’ve shopped for groceries, shopped for clothes, cooked, done dishes and ran errands. I’ve even worked in front of him, sat together on the couch, watching soaps and bad daytime TV. I don’t know what’s happening. We’ve skipped the whole ‘dating’ stage completely. How has that happened?

They say when you meet ’the one’, you know.

You know?