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.
November 02, 2006
He comes in 10 mintues I don’t know if it’s the excitement, the latte or all that Chinese food but my stomach is doing turns and jumps like ballerinas in the Nutcracker Suite. Things are moving along steadily, I’m drinking infrequently but far too heavily, my grandpa died about two weeks ago and my relationship with my parents is becoming far more like a friendship where they call me to talk about their stressors and such. Its fine I like going to concerts with them in the city. Last week we saw my dad’s favorite rock band, he’s so much cooler then me, and we stood in the very front, him dancing, my mom said “ we’re like a little rock family.” He cried at the funeral in front of everyone, my dad, eventhough it was my mom’s father who passed, he spoke about their trips together and their friendship, it was moving, he looks old, older, it makes me sad. My poor mom is so sad I just read an email that said shes excited to go to counseling. She said she cries easily which in turn makes me get choked up. I was at the local chain bookstore drinking a latte and reading magazines to kill time until the boyfriend arrives, and I passed the cat magazines, my grandmother loved cat magazines and dog shows, she had two cats, one only had one eye and the other she named funny face. I hope I grow up to be just as crazy as all of them.