Help! I’m Dating A Wrestling Monster, And He Cries Hardest When He Wins!

June 23, 2019 by , featured in Health
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The first time I went back to his house, I was almost positive that the guy I’ve been dating had a massive porn addiction. There were used tissues everywhere. It was gross, and I was disappointed, especially after how much fun I had that night right up to the moment my hand found a soggy Kleenex in the crack of his couch. This, as you might imagine, added quite the wrinkle to what was already a unique outing for me, given the fact that I had never been on a date with a wrestling monster before.

Getting To Know The Monster I’m Dating

I’ve had relationships with athletes, but none who looked like him. Seven feet tall and 350 lbs. of rock-solid muscle was enough for me to explore the possibility that maybe there was another dimension to this monster of a man, so while he was in the bathroom, I worked up the nerve to call him out. I expected excuses, but instead, what I got was a heartfelt explanation. That’s when the tears started, and that’s when I knew I had it all. The total package. (No, not Lex Luger, nerd.) A pristine physical specimen with a heart of gold. He explained to me through controlled sobs that he has a severely hard time controlling his happiness.

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That was three years ago.

Now we’re at the point in our relationship where most normal couples start thinking about getting more serious. I’m conflicted, to say the least. Just yesterday, I saw him fighting back tears because he made a yellow light on the way to dinner. I keep a stash of cry napkins in the car for situations like that, but luckily, I calmed him down before a total meltdown happened while he was behind the wheel.

Meeting My Parents

I was so excited to introduce him to my parents, and he was real gushy about it, too. Then we made the mistake of having perfect timing at the airport, one of those perfect pickups that are often talked about but rarely happen. We just rolled up to arrivals and out they walked, luggage already retrieved, baggage claim a thing of the past. No phone calls needed to confirm or locate a lost relative. My parents were at a loss for words as my hulking crying monster of a boyfriend sucked back snot rockets as he sobbed on the ride home.

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crying monster

Brunch wasn’t any better. When you’re his size, you eat to live rather than live to eat. That’s why, on rare occasion, a perfect meal can spell disaster—or, in this case, a perfect piece of bacon. He just stared at it for a while as my dad talked about fly-fishing in Alaska, and then his eyes started to well up. He couldn’t get over the perfect symmetry of colors on the pork. We sat helpless as he went on and on about how the pink seamlessly flowed into the red. (He thinks if he explains what he’s feeling, it might help him not cry, but it usually doesn’t work.)  My mom tried to help by plucking the bacon out of his fingers and eating it in front of him, but that only made matters worse.

I really want to take our relationship to the next level, but who needs a crying monster baby when you’ve got a crying monster?

Images: World Wrestling Entertainment, Inc., Pixabay


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