A Non-Answer: The Non-Proposal Sequal

So one of the habits my Rockstar has that I may have forgotten to mention in the past is that he doesn’t answer people’s questions alot. I think that this is not the way he was raised, since his mother tends to lean toward the kinda-awesome side. Perhaps it is due to the many years he spent as a single man before I came along with no one to respond to, or before that- the years he spent tuning out his Daughter’s Mother and her bitching. Whatever the reason for his silence, I’ve decided that it’s just not ok sometimes.

Yes, I realize that I tend to talk too much, and my excessive sparkly energy may be exhausting sometimes, so I do not fault the man for tuning me out on occassion. Hell, I would tune me out much more often than he does if I were dating me. That is why I put the important stuff down on paper, so he can read it at his leisure, and comprehend it at his own pace.

So, if you read my post yesterday, I’m sure you are all waiting with baited breath to read what my Rockstar had to say about my little note. Let me tell you. Nothing. He said nothing. In fact, I have ripped apart his entire desk-ish area looking for the damn thing, thinking that perhaps a flatulent wind caused it to blow away. I have come to believe that the power of my Rockstar’s guitar amps may have caused my little slip of paper to disintegrate, because there is no sign whatsoever that it existed. This makes me wonder:

Is the thought of marriage to me so abhorrent that he would douse it in ketchup, fry it up, and devour it, which then would cause my non-proposal to be digested and delivered to his colon, which then would result in a massive morning dump, destroying all evidence?

Is the fear of being stuck with me for all eternity so horrendous that he would dice my note up in the food processer and then scatter the remaining bits to the four winds?

Perhaps I am over-reacting. After all, it WAS only a suggestion.

I am not quite sure this is related, but as this has never happened quite like this and I have never before almost-proposed, I tend to think it is.

When I crawled into bed with no answer last night, my Rockstar proceeded to very roughly fuck the livin’ daylights out of me. For him, rough sex is quite abnormal. So then I got to thinking, maybe he’s just mad that I asked him first. I also thought, “Maybe I should propose more often.” 🙂