For quite a while I’ve been amused by the hashtag RelationshipGoals. Just another way to celebrate someone’s commitment to a person they enthusiastically believe is their other half. Then, I started thinking on my own goals. What is the thing that makes me want to Tweet out to the world to indulge in my personal love-story success?–Kin of cheesy! Don’t you think?

First of all, I’m not that into hashtag trends. It’s not that I want to make you believe I’m too cool for millennial tendencies or directions. The fact is that I wasn’t born to it. I love seeing it and liking it. However, I sometimes find an unconscious restrain to distance me from any sort of modern fabs.

Yet, I have found the #relationship goals as a way to celebrate genuinely anyone’s relationship. It’s growing on me a little. Not like a rash!


Hence, I want to share my own goal in a relationship. I have not thought about it till this Sunday when my boyfriend and I went through a difficult situation that almost broke us apart. Just then, I realized what I really appreciate about my boyfriend and our 2-year-and-a-half relationship.

Food. Primordial, undeniably-driven, delicious craving for good food or any type of food. We both are food lovers. We like to taste whatever we think is worth eating. However, as a healthy reminder, I do take care of myself by jogging, working out as ofter as I can and ingesting vitamins. My boyfriend, well, is getting there at his turtle-speed-like pace.

Back to the moment I realized I fulfilled a goal. I remember on Sunday, we were at my apartment few hours away from our hometown, we were just snuggling in my couch, watching television. Then, I heard my boyfriend’s belly roared. I sat down and laughed. He looked at me with sad puppy eyes. Then, I told him after I showered, we would go and grab some food.

We didn’t feel fancy that day and not a bit inclined to cook. So, we hit McDonalds. He’s not a McDonalds’ lover, but I am. I told him to give it a try. We bought two Premium Bacon Burgers with a fries and two piece of fried chicken for each.

We got home, sat down and ate. We didn’t talk much while we eat. I took advantage of that and tuned in TNT for some Harry Porter marathon. He didn’t say anything. After we ate our late lunch (it was almost three), we leaned back and hold our full bellies. Then, he leaned to the side and kissed my chick: “Thanks, babe!” he said, “it was delicious!”

I was happy because I knew he was a little upset of what had happened last night. I knew what he needed was to taste some good junk food and everything would be right. Thankfully, I wasn’t wrong at all.

I don’t know if he was saying that because he was too hungry. But, spending a day like that with him, at my place, snuggled and full with junk food is not a relationship goals, well, so I’m a proclaimed happy ignorant.


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