"I want to be sure of you."
I've always known that relationships are complicated. Up until this point, I never knew what the aftermath of battered feelings, guilt, and strings attached could feel like. Sometimes, the tension is palpable.
Standing in my kitchen Sunday morning, basking in the afterglow of passionate kisses and ignoring the shadow of words unsaid--You murmur, "I don't want to screw this up." I pause, studying you for a few moments--wrestling with the real emotions I feel, and the surface I portray. Giving in to my honest side, I move up to you, stand on my tippy toes and tell you "I'm here. I'm yours. There is nothing you can do to screw it up. Promise."
Rushing into something that feels as natural as sunset.
The night before, you pulled me onto your lap. You said I stopped talking about it. It, referring to Sunday. We were supposed to be talking about you...but you directed it to me. It didn't go unnoticed, even though I curled into you, dropping tears onto your t-shirt helplessly. I had no words, but I still think you heard me.
Our life together--a series of moments, the most bittersweet kind.
The car after a lunch time escape, facing each other--you tell me it's been 12 minutes and you haven't kissed me.
Our hideaway--we need to talk. My heart races. I'm going to lose you. You tell me that you want..what you need. You summarize yourself in some key points that i'll never forget..
Number one, you want to get married (not this year..but probably next year)
Number two, you want to have kids..you don't want to be an old man when it happens (you're 28 and I'm 24)
Number three, you're not interested in just "dating" anymore..you tell me all the time that you are a cranky old man (those are my words..not yours).
Number four, you had a life with someone else. You tell me something I try to forget all the time. You tell me that you are going to hate yourself for a while, because of the pain you are about to cause. You tell me that you will go through a period of being self-loathing and guilty...but then, you reiterate, that after that--you tell me, what I try not to forget (but sometimes do), the most important line, "I'm yours."
Tucked away in corner, you tell me that it was decided the moment we met. That fateful, fantastic summer night. It started out with American literature, and left with me ungluing myself from you. You threaten to kiss me, right then and there. That was the day I realized you and I might just have a chance.
The way the light hit your face at Cafe Pinot, I've never seen anyone look more handsome than you did. The intensity of your stare across the table--your eyes said everything, everything you still haven't told me.
Then the day you left, the day I realized how much I could lose. How much of me was invested in us. The rain pelts against the car window, my insides feel twisted--would you choose me? Would you choose us? Would you take a chance on something that could be great, or settle for good.
Shark week. We putz through the grocery store--two bumbling fools in love, wandering aimlessly. Distraction. We both look at the nutrition labels--thank god for you. You made me laugh; I wasn't nervous, I was floating. You stayed til 4 in the morning. We had our first kiss. 2 am, on the cement still hot from the day; delirious. I knew then, I never wanted to say goodbye to you. I realized that night how far we'd come. We sat outside in my backyard underneath the stars--6 hours of honest, no b.s: you, me, and the truth. I couldn't believe you were there. You were real.
The day I let you go, telling you in a note--the better version of myself, the selfless side. All my fears went away as you held me--it was 8:45 in the morning and it occurred to me then that I was wrong to think we were done, it was just the beginning.
Our symphony of air freshener. 24 hour Wal-Mart, one aisle, and the most fun two people have had picking out a room freshener. We've never smelled more unique than we did leaving that night. Thank you for that.
Sunday. My life was moving 1,000 miles per hour--the only thing I could see was you across the hallway: everything slowed down. I didn't call you, but you were there. You were the only person I needed that night. You made me feel safe. If you wouldn't have been on the phone with me when it all started...thank you.
The ugliest jar in the whole world...the search continues. I still believe the creepy teddy bear is the winner. Agree to disagree.
Rewind to the kitchen after you were gone, so elated to see you--such a mess around you, I forgot what I was doing and abruptly exited, tripping on my way out. You told me about Japanese literature and chivalry.
You, me and the world.
The things unsaid--when you look at me, it's just a feeling--you can see all of me, and you feel that i'm the person you're meant to be with. It still flips my stomach.
The most romantic kiss of my life. We closed down our Starbucks--oblivious to anyone else in the universe, we kissed underneath the summer rain...Everything. Stops. I've never felt more sure of you than I did that night.
Remember tonight, for it is the beginning of always.
Checking out the local retirement home...just in case you get out of hand.
Discovering my new makeout spot--the Scottsdale library; classy but literary at the same time. When you get out of hand, we'll drop you off at "The Home" (Shady Pines) after.
Frozen yogurt. Twice.. I thought we would stay frozen ourselves. Firstly, when you told me that you couldn't kiss me and touch me anymore..not because you didn't want to but because it wouldn't be right. You cannot give yourself to me. You are not yourself. I wrestle with what I want and what I can have. You are not mine just yet. Flash forward to the second time, the night after our first 'tense' moment. When was I going to invite you back to my house? I didn't know how to tell you then, but I was sorry I couldn't be the person you met 3 months before. She was fearless.
Sitting ontop of the world at Pinnacle Peak. I felt like that moment was meant just for us. I wish I could capture that moment in a jar and see it always.
Cholla trail. There are still no words, simply a smirk.
Last week, I told you that I forget where we are. We're still beginning.
You told me you fell in love with me. I stood against you, swallowing words--I never know if I can be sure of you, if you're ready for me.
In these series of moments I feel sure of us...and then other times I feel like you tell me you love me but hold me an arm's length away.
I know that we are in no hurry. building a foundation. You tell me I've met my match...and I often laugh at the truth in that statement. I still think i'm the likeable Golden Girl..and you are Blanche (she was the slut). I can't help but wish you were sure of us.
Not mine, just yet.
