He’s fantastic” you know. I find myself doodling his name in hearts. I don’t know when it happened, this falling in love ordeal, probably right away or maybe some kind of a trickling love, a mist that grew into a heavy rain. I find myself smiling in dream, starring longingly at the pillow where he recently came to lay his head. Someone recently said that this distance must keep it interesting and fun. Yes, but it was interesting when we spent months living together, practically attached. Cooking dinner, dancing on the couch, him pinning me to the wall trying to stop my uncontrollable laughter, which only induced more giggles.
During our summer together all those hangover curing meals of Tabasco Mac n Cheese with Hot Dogs or Salami Grilled Cheese (with mayo and mustard of course) had began to put on the pounds, so I decided I would start running, but I don’t run. So I’d tell him, “I’m going to go on a run.” He’d look at me greatly surprised, I’d put on my super cute running outfit get my new video ipod and go out the door, only to jog about 50 yards and walk the remaining two miles that I had decided my route would include. I assume sitting down next to the path and watching some Law and Order: SVU on my ipod would have been time better spent. Anyway he became intrigued by this exercise I was supposedly doing and decided since he was in between baseball seasons he would run with me. Well he quickly became privy to my little white lie or exaggeration as it were. We still “ran” together everyday me walking along to the tune of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” and him laughing and lapping me so that I was getting back to the house about 20 minutes after him.
And yes I write of love; running and salami, hysterics and pillows, love.