Thanks a Lot, Ted Bundy

I made the mistake last weekend of watching a movie on Ted Bundy.

I watched it with Ty on Sunday and went home that evening. It was almost 9 p.m. and I was in the middle of cleaning up yet another pile of cat vomit (Cammie likes to remind me who's boss when I spend time away from my apartment), when I heard a knock at the door.

Not expecting anyone, I was instantly on high alert. I tiptoed to my door and peeked through the peephole. It was some young guy in a plaid shirt. Still weary from watching a movie on a serial killer, I immediately assumed this guy was donning a fake cast, would guilt me into "helping" him carry something and then bludgeon me to death. Oh and then do awful things post mortem.

The logical side of me told me the chances of this were slim, but I was still completely freaked out! Living alone is sometimes not all it's cracked up to be. And the worst part? That little ass knocked on my door TWO more times! Really?!? It's almost 9 p.m., you bastard. Some of us are grandmas and like to hit the hay early.

It wasn't very grandma-like what I did after he left, though. I quickly threw together some stuff, frantically called Ty and headed back over to his house for the night. I didn't want to stay home because I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, even though the guy was gone (and most likely one of the pesky salespeople that plague my complex often), my door has a double deadbolt and, more importantly, I'm 26 freakin' years old.

I was so relieved when I arrived at Ty's house (and happy to catch up on some "Boardwalk Empire"). I may have taken self defense in college, but there's a certain security that comes with having a guy around (I know, I know. Revoke my Feminist Card now).

It's moments like those that remind me that I don't have to resist relying on people so much. I'm always trying so hard to be Miss Independent and not feel reliant on anyone but me. Those girls that turn to their significant others always disturbed me, and I've vowed to never be that damsel in distress.

And yet, having Ty around at that time to calm my fears (rational or not) made me see that it's OK to turn to a guy sometimes. It doesn't mean I'm not independent or incapable of being alone. I just like to feel safe, and in that moment, he made me feel that way.

Pretty weird, huh?