• Clarke Rose


Nothing about Pierre and I's relationship is normal. But then you ask yourself, "Well, what's normal?" Normal to me is what I see on tv and in movies and on Instagram, unfortunately. And this is what I see: Couples becoming official after a few weeks, saying "I love you," a couple weeks after that, and getting engaged a year or two later. They write captions like "He completes me" and "What would I do without my other half?!"

Now this is not the norm in reality and not all couples are like this. But I have never seen a relationship like mine and Pierre's, except for maybe Carrie and Big, ironically. Pierre and I for the longest time only saw each other once a week, we don't really hang out with each other's friends, and we don't use labels.

Now all of this has started to change, but granted, it's been one year and 6 months together. My longest relationship ever. The other day, he called himself my boyfriend. Yesterday, he invited me to a three day party at a castle where all of his friends will be and over 120 people attending. A week ago, he told me he likes me (a lot).

The reason these things have so much meaning to me is because he took his time. He waited until his actions spoke for themselves, so I would believe the words when they came. We don't say things just to say them, we say things because we mean them and we feel them.

These last couple weeks I have been with Pierre a lot. He took me to a castle park one day and we had a picnic and he made us sandwiches and I gave him pleasure in broad daylight. We then went deeper into the forest, made a bed, and made love all day long under the big blue sky. Then he helped me move houses, carrying all my stuff into my new apartment up six flights of stairs with no elevator. And when I told him, "You know Pierre, I like you a lot." And he said, "I don't know if I can say it." I remained calm. I said, "Pierre I know you like me a lot, because you don't do anything unless you like it a lot. And you show me you like me a lot by your actions. And you wouldn't be with me a year and a half later, if you didn't, like me a lot." He tells me that he didn't tell his last girlfriend he loved her until three years in, he tells me he doesn't say it to his parents and his parents don't say it to him. He tells me he doesn't know how to express his emotions, but that he does (like me a lot) and he shows me through his actions. I say, "Well I like you, you care about me, and I want you to say it." He goes, "Can I write it?" I giggle, fine. "What color do you want it written in?" "Pink." He gets up, gets a pen, grabs my foot, writes, "I like you, a lot." And lays down on my tummy. He's sleepy and tells me he's happy. I could tell he felt genuinely pleased with himself, proud he could express how he felt, and do it in a way that made him comfortable.

We have been spending so many nights in his bedroom, which is warm from summer, and occupied with the sound of a fan (no air conditioning in Paris), cuddling and fucking and loving. One of those nights after he finished doing me from behind, he started to wipe up the cum, and he was being really thorough. I thought, there can't be that much cum... I go to the bathroom to pee after sex (so important!!) and find that I was bleeding. I come back in the room and ask him if I was bleeding, he goes, "Just a little, maybe I went too hard." But I know that I skipped my birth control a bunch and I was just having a period. I was kinda embarrassed because I didn't have any tampons, and he gave me some black briefs to sleep in, no judgement.

Then I got my actual period. About a week later. Woke up to a huge blood spot in his bed. He was sound asleep. I go to the bathroom to clean up, come back and the bed is STRIPPED. Duvet on the floor, sheets in separate piles. I look at Pierre like a dog who peed on the carpet and he goes, "It's totally fine." And kisses me all over, he says, "That's what pussies do."

And the other night he said, "Clarke, you can tell me anything. I am the kind and caring kind of boyfriend." I said, "What did you just say?" He goes, "Oops."

He makes me feel really happy, in a way that is terrifying because dating him feels real now, like really real. It's been so long for someone like me to stay committed, and everyday only gets better. We love cooking for each other and going on adventures and learning new ways to pleasure one another. We have the best sex, it honestly just get's more and more incredible. The orgasms more and more intense.

And if I could go back into the beginning of the relationship I would like to tell myself just to breathe, comparing your relationship to everyone else's is so dumb. Everyone is so different. Everybody needs and likes different things. With Pierre, I needed someone patient and genuine. When things go too quickly I get bored, and wanna leave. Pierre has handled everything in such a way that it worked for me, and for him. At totally different points of our lives, from completely different countries and family backgrounds, we've made it work.

As Pierre goes, "I'm in trouble, I'm dating an Orange County girl."

God fuck I love him.


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