Reagan has red-tinted blond hair and cool blue eyes. His shoulders are broad and his calves are thick. His hands are rough, and his skin is smooth and darkly tanned from his work. His voice is deep, so deep that when he laughs, it vibrates in my chest.
I don't know if it's really the decibel at which he speaks that shakes my core, or if it's just him. It might be the bleached hair on his arms, or the tan lines around the edges of his T-shirt and shorts and shoes. He would look funny without them if I bothered to observe the hard line of tan to sheet-white pale.
Reagan's eyes sparkle a lot. He always wants me to smile. I don't know if this is because he knows that I'm always sad, or if it's him covering up what he feels inside. I think we might both be a little hollow. I know we've both been hurt, and it's odd because we've had such different lives.
He's been engaged, he's been in love. I haven't. The longest relationship I've had has been a whopping three months. But people always leave, regardless. He and I know this. He's not married, clearly. There's something about the differences in the ways we've been loved by others that has made us so different from each other. He doesn't like titles, but I need them. For him, calling me his girlfriend is trivial and childish, which I understand. I suppose it seems silly, seeing as he's had a fiancée walk away.
But for me, I need the title. It's not so much about the word, but more the security that comes with it. He's a catch, and I want to say that he's mine. I want to know that he's mine. I know that he cares, but I don't know where we stand with each other. I need to know that he's not going to walk away from me at the drop of a hat, because in my experience, that's what the lack of a title gets you. From what I know, when people don't want to call you their girlfriend/boyfriend/partner it's because they want an easy out. They want to be able to change their mind. If there isn't a word for you, they aren't committed to you.
Yet, he takes the time to make me feel better. He talks me through things. He holds me when I cry so hard that I stop breathing. He's pursued me for six years. I know that he isn't likely to up and walk out. I know that he's a good man after a long line of bad ones, but I still worry. He makes me so happy, so what happens if he decides he can't handle my crazy anymore? What happens when he realizes that he could do better than me?
Well, I wasn't even his girlfriend.
His ex works with him. Another ex shows up at his place of work sometimes. I know that everyone at his job likes me. I know that most of the girls there would defend my honor, as it were. I also know that his ex-girlfriends know how badly they messed up by walking away from him. I know that they want him back; that the girl he works with actively tries to woo him. I know he doesn't have an interest in her, but I also want him to say that his girlfriend wouldn't appreciate her coming on to him. I want to be able to pull rank. I want the people around him to know where we stand. Then again, I would like to know as well.
So, Reagan and his pretty eyes and rough hands will sit down and talk about this soon. He and I will have to discuss this. I need him to understand what I need from him. There are compromises that can be made, I'm sure, but I need him to take down his walls around it. We've been playing this game for months, it's time to talk about it. If he can't work with me on this, I don't know what I'll do. What happens if we're together a year from now with no titles? It's time to define the relationship.