The Reality of a Vampire Boyfriend

I’m happily married, however, like all normal females, I am a total Twilight fan.  I have been completely swept up into the saga of the love between Bella and Edward and their passion for each other.  A passion so intense they actually compared the addiction of one another to that of heroin.  Does it get any dreamier than that?  Okay, throw in some werewolf abs and you have the perfect storm of females sighing all across the world.  And I am totally onboard.

But let’s face it.  The reality is that even if I wasn’t married, I don’t really want a vampire boyfriend.

“I like to watch you sleep. It’s sort of fascinating.” 

Let’s get this ball rolling with the fact that I don’t want to be stared at all night while I sleep.  That’s not cool.  It’s especially not cool since, according to my husband, I have recently started to snore.  Where’s the romance in that?  It’s especially not romantic when your dreamy vampire boyfriend wakes you up from a deep, deep sleep with, “Would you just stop snoring! It’s so irritating.”  I’m not saying anyone living in my house has ever done that…

If my husband was a vampire and he actually uttered the words to me, “I don’t sleep…ever.”  My first thought, sad as it seems, would really be, Does this mean I get the bed all to myself every night for the rest of my life?  This might be followed with a first season opener of ER type fist pump to my chest a la Eriq La Salle.  Sometimes, having the bed to myself is my own personal brand of heroin.   Just keepin’ it real.

Let’s forget playing any kind of game or sport together.  He wouldn’t be able to ever “let me win” and make me believe that I actually won. That would never fly.

And yes, it’s true that Bella is one of the few women who can actually say, my boyfriend’s back and you’re gonna be in trouble and be certain she won’t meet with  an incredulous Edward replying, “You told them what?” when she tells him who needs a good butt kicking.

It’s a woman thing to want to feel physically protected, however, I keep reminding myself that I don’t live in a world where people want me dead and I think having my husband and his family avenge my most recent office cry by snapping someone’s head off and burning their body parts is a little bit of overkill – forgive the pun. 

The truth is that the fantasy is dreamy, but the reality would completely annoy me. 

Personally, I need space.  I need distance.  I need for you not to GPS locate me using your sister and all the people I’m talking to at any given moment.  Can you say, clingy?

My cell phone rings.

“Rachel?”

“Yes, dreamy vampire boyfriend?”

“Are you at Pinkberry again?”

Ugh.  “Yes.”

“Isn’t that the third time this week?”

“Maybe.”

“No, it is…I’m a vampire and I’m telling you it is.”

“Okay, then yes. It is. So?”

“Look, we’ll talk about this after I’ve devoured some wild animals.”

“I hate your stupid vampire metabolism.”

See what I mean?  Technically he can’t read my mind, but one quick mind read of his sister who would “foresee” the numbers on the scale on my weigh-in day and I would be so busted. 

It would be the end of secrets as I know it. 

I think in the end, I much prefer a man with no magic powers, no addiction-like thirst for my blood and no ability or even desire to know what I’m doing at every moment of every day.  I much prefer my independence.