I’m interviewing for a different job at the company I work at. When you start interviewing for a job, sure, you want the job. When you’re in a multi-step interviewing process that extends over a week, you get very immersed in the idea of the job. You research it. You get ready for the questions about why you want it and why you’re so good that you’re the only person who could possibly fit this role. You start to think about ‘how it’s going to be great if’, and try very hard to not slip into ‘it’s going to be so great when’. Today I found out that I passed interviews round one, which means I get more interviews. Really, its sounds like being rewarded for eating your vegetables by eating more vegetables, but I’m still convinced there’s cake in this for me if I go far enough.

Mentally I can get ahead of myself. I think of all the different elaborate scenarios involving cake. I’m lost in the what ifs and the maybes.

It would be very easy for me to drop the phrase ‘the cake is a lie’ right now.

The not boyfriend is a rum cake I think. The mixing up of carriages and which side the horses go on it not always my fault. He’s certainly had his part in this.

Last post I joked about a ring, white picket fence, and four hundred babies, saying that would happen before he called me girlfriend. Next thing I know, he says that he loves me.

It was on the phone, so he couldn’t see what I’m sure was a priceless expression or me sliding down to the floor, leaning back against the door frame.

I said, “What did you say?” even though I was pretty sure I heard it the first time. I cried happy tears like a stupid diamond jewelry commercial.

Before he told me this he’d asked me a question out of the blue. It was the type of question where the person asking it prefaces it with a question. They ask if it’s okay to ask this strange question. How do you answer that question when you don’t know the next question? It’s a trap. It’s making the person feel like they’re okay in asking, as if they warned you and you consented knowing full well the consequences.

That’s not really consent, but me, you can really ask me anything and I’ll try to answer it, so I said, “Sure.”

Not-boyfriend asked me about what if I accidentally got pregnant. I’m sure he wasn’t looking for, “That would suck!” or, “That would never happen!” as an answer either. Unfortunately, my actual and quite honest answer of, “I don’t know,” wasn’t satisfactory either. I tried to elaborate on that answer with, “I’d talk to you,” which was also true, “But really, besides that, I don’t think I honestly know what I’d do in that situation. I think it would depend on a lot of things.”

I had to explain that no, it’s not something I’d already thought about and decided for future reference. It would be a lot of talking. It would be a lot of thinking. There would probably be tears and anxiety involved.

“Are you asking me if I’m pro choice?” He explained that is not what he’s asking, and even though he wants kids, he’s not pro-life or anything. He wasn’t thrilled about my answer, but he was satisfied that I would involve him and not just get an abortion without even saying anything.

“I know how much that would hurt you. You should understand I’d never do something like that to you.”

Then came something that might have been as powerful as saying, “I love you,” he tells me that if it happened and wanted to have a baby, he would want me to move in with him. He would want to take care of me. I joked that he was a perfect target for women trying to trap men, and we laughed a bit about it. He clarified that it wasn’t something he’d do for any crazy woman he’d dated. He just wanted to let me know that if against odds it happened, and if I kept it, he wanted us to have it together.

Saying, “I love you,” may equal, “I would have a child with you,” for some people, but I don’t think most guys who say one explicitly mean the other. It’s almost like it qualified the “I love you” with “This is how much I love you.”

The labels don’t matter. I don’t know why those labels have been such an issue, but with what we have become to each other, I guess really doesn’t matter.