Making (Tentative & Bold) Plans

Alright, so now that I got that out of the way. We actually agree. On lots of things. But we’re both terrified. He’s scared he’s going to have to change. And I’m scared I’m not going to have control .

It’s laughable. A relationship without change, growth, adaptation, compromise, giving in…?

We’re hilarious really.

He’s nervous I won’t like his wild friends. I’m nervous he’s going to get plastered and embarrass me. Reality? I actually really enjoy going out. I haven’t had someone to do that with in a long time. Good drinks, fun people, dancing, music? I love it all. And, I’ve never actually heard of him drinking. Since we met, I’ve been the over-drinker. He’s stayed in most nights playing video games. And he got us a separate hotel room from his friends so that I would feel comfortable.

He over-explains his family. I get nervous that they’re heathens. Reality? They’re probably insanely lovely. I’m going to show them how funny, smart, and kind I find him. They’ll like us together most of the time, and sometimes, they’ll be confused because he’ll seem different. But, that is literally all relationships. When two people join, they make their own life together. Their own rules, traditions, rhythms. It’s okay. These people love him. And I lo…like him. We’ll get along.

I hate the distance part. He hates the distance part. Reality? We’ve each done our own thing for a long time. It’s actually not that far away. And if we stay together, being apart is completely part of that. More reality? We’re probably not that great at understanding each other on it so far. We REALLY like each other. But he’s hesitant to admit his feelings (see the scared of changing part) until I meet his friends and family. And I’m scared of being in a relationship (see the loss of control fear) and not being able to predict the outcome of all things. More reality? We’re still good to each other. We’re balancing it. We’re planning weekends: Memorial Weekend with his bff & his wife, and then a cookout with his family, then a ball in June, and then a whole week together. We’re flying in to Boston so I can show him what my life was there. Then traveling up the coast and “staying in bed and breakfasts and watching the sunrise on the coast!” (totallllllly wants a wild life…) of New Hampshire and Maine until we watch his friends get married.

We suck at this. Or maybe we’re normal.

Truly, I’m excited to find out.

This guy. He drives me nuts.



There were twinkles everywhere that night. The trees shone with the tiny clear bulbs strung between and throughout and within every branch. Candles flickered on the tablecloths that were outfitted with simple linens, water in wide mouthed decanters, and bulbous loaves of crusty homemade bread. Champagne was handed out seconds after the couple was announced man and wife. The bride glowed in her sequined sheath while her Armani model husband’s white teeth never stopped smiling at her.

Sweat glistened on each of the attendees as it was Texas and May and outside. We drank gin and tonics and rose and swallowed those glasses of champagne, never quite getting tipsy but feeling the buzz warm and cool us all at the same time. We sat at a table full of the non glamorous New Yorkers. A table of old high school friends-smart, interesting, funny, self-deprecating young professionals. Kind men who took care of their recently widowed mother who sat at the next table over. Men who asked good questions and made jokes and trekked across the green lawn to fill my drink.

Everything sparkled as we watched the groom and his mother dance to Edelweiss. The crowd joined in and serenaded the sweet scene. I sat next to the widow on a little bench, feeling her youngest sons gaze on me every now and then. He was tall and big chinned and quick to smile. He had led his mother up to us to say hello to my best friend whom he knew growing up. His mom grasped onto the crook of his arm and commented on the heat and the beauty of the night. His broad chest looked even larger in his fitted dark gray suit and classic white shirt with a spread-collar detail. Sharp, easy, polite, fun.

The bride and groom step into the middle to dance. My heart already dreaming of a big city and the romance it holds-like the NYC in which they reside. Their song is relatively unknown but I gasp when I realize it’s the song JT said he wanted his wife to walk down the aisle to. The sweet best friends behind me ask me what it is. Is it just me, or is everything in life a sign? I think to myself while quickly realizing I hadn’t thought about JT all night. He’s not my type of sparkly. Not my romance. I’m not meant to be his.

We leave before the dancing; I’m too swallowed up in my realizations to have fun and let loose. I wake up the next morning dehydrated and dry and dull. Life always feels so very up and down to me. No more sparkles. I check my Facebook and notice a message:
“It was nice meeting you last night! Y’all should have stayed for the reception. You were killing it in that red dress.” typed the big chinned and chested man, I imagine, with a twinkle in his eye.

Abercrombie and Awkward

We get ready in her tiny little apartment. It has one and a half windows, painted white cabinets, and four pieces of furniture. Tonight, we’re happy. We dance around to our “We Out” playlist made in the honor and spirit of the Ciara song of the same name. HLM met a boy, a man, really (Big Sexy for short) a few days earlier. We are going to meet him at a small country bar that has pretty great live music. His cousin is playing and Big Sexy wants to spend every second with HLM the last few days. She wants to as well but keeps pretending otherwise, “but what if he always wants to be together. This is a lot.” Already talking like they are a real couple after four days of hanging out. I encourage her to be open to him because I knew she was going to fall in love after their first date. HLM and I danced and jumped around far too long for her to not be in love with him.

She wore a purple tank that draped low across her chest and was sure to have Big Sexy captivated. I was attending with them mostly so I could spend some time with him and observe HLM being infatuated. She never likes anyone and she seems to like him. He arrives to pick us up and he’s wearing his typical old man style button up. Standing next to him is his Abercrombie model brother in a black polo. Well well well, I think, mentally rubbing my greedy hands together, this is a wonderful development. He’s 2 years younger than me. 19 at this point. Too young to get in to this bar, but since his cousin is playing, he sidles up right inside and he and I quickly intertwine our legs together on the barstools. Big Sexy doesn’t notice but HLM does. Routinely poking that “Oh heeeeyyyy” spot located between your hips and your ribs. I buy Abercrombie Jack and Cokes and we laugh about how infatuated the new couple is.

None of us listened to the music. No idea what his cousin sounds like. The boys drive us home. Big Sexy didn’t drink but Abercrombie and I are buzzed and have slid close to each other in the backseat. His arm goes around my shoulder and he rubs his thumb in big strokes across my whole back. Back at the Almost-Windowless apartment, HLM breaks out her parent’s old foldable picnic table. The two huge boys sit across from us, we get more beers and play Apples to Apples. Abercrombie has his hand under the table and is stroking my leg the whole time. Big Sexy has no idea why HLM ushers him out the door to go “pick up ice cream” at the grocery store. As soon as they’re out the door, we’re together. His body is hard and his lips are stiff. He’s a good kisser but a stubborn one. His hands move quickly and he sets me on the leather couch. We’re fast and furious and making out like high schoolers. He jumps up and we arrange in .2 seconds when we hear the warning knock on the door. HLM wordlessly giggles and Big Sexy looks shocked as he realized for the first time what was happening all night.

In true high school fashion, nothing ever comes from this. Besides every awkward interaction as we run in to each other every few months over the last year and a half. HLM and Big Sexy fell in love. They’re engaged now and couldn’t be happier.

Abercrombie and I are the Best Man and Maid of Honor.