fighting gingivitis together

As I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, one hand on my hip, the other holding my toothbrush in my mouth, I saw his toothbrush standing in the little ducky holder on my counter. No, this is not a symbol of our depravity (he doesn't spend the night considering I live with my parents). It's simply that he works late, and when he comes over straight from work, we've gotten into this little routine of going up and brushing our teeth together in my bathroom.

I don't know why I like his toothbrush there so much, next to mine. But if I were to take a guess, I like it because it's a piece of him that is so solid, tangible and ordinary, living in my world. And for once I'm not saying it means that this relationship is going to continue or die or anything too deep - it simply makes me happy. I like waking up in the morning and seeing that piece of him. I like standing next to him and making faces at ourselves in the mirror while brushing our teeth at night.

He's up for a new job, one that's closer and wouldn't require us to see each other at 1am. And I'm so excited that I will get to see him more frequently and at times that I'm not ready to fall asleep.

But I just don't want to lose that damn toothbrush.

i'd die if i didn't see you there

And when we can see things clearer
than we think we see them now
Maybe kiss each other sweetly
instead of trying to bite down
Maybe then all this will be better
Maybe then we'll recover


I didn't know that fights could be silent. I always pictured them with yelling, door slamming, even household items smashing into walls. I didn't think the first one would be fought over the phone, curled up in my bed or in my car, sobbing, trying to contemplate any sort of future - let alone tomorrow - with the man I say I love.

But knowing us, I should've guessed that it wouldn't have been a normal fight. There was no yelling. There was no anger. It was the easiest fight to lose because all I had to do is keep my mouth shut, and it was over. Us. No more.

But He made me look at him, he made me speak, and because of that, we have tomorrow. And the next day, and the day after. Maybe even longer.

Monday is seven months. And it means more now, than ever.

they call her love

The weather has been changing in Northern Virginia - fall is definitely in the air. I know this because at night, the breeze coaxed through my window by my fan is not just cooling my hot skin, it's chilling what's already cold. I know this because when I wake, I'm deep under covers, tucked into pillows and the light is hazy and not quite enough to pull me from my warmth. I know this because I now scamper into the shower, the hot water now serving a purpose to protect me from the day ahead.

I know fall is here by my mood, by the events, by the time. I always seem to want to think more during the fall, preparing for the long haul of winter when I have nothing but intellect to keep me company. Only this time, it will be different because of the man I have next to me.

I have held his hand in mine for almost seven months. SEVEN MONTHS. It feels like an eternity to me, the girl of short relationships and flings. He has put up with my BS, my craziness, my frustration. I have forgiven his tardiness, his absentmindedness, his unavailability. He has made me talk to him. He has let me cry. He has forced me to move outside my comfort zone. He brought me roses for our sixth month anniversary.

We have finally said the Word (or, The Words). And it was painful and it terrified me, it made me doubt us and myself and relationships but we said it anyway. And it's true, and I meant it, and I hope I never stop meaning it or forgetting how much it meant.

oh, you think you got it

Life is too good right now.

I keep looking over my shoulder, wondering when it's going to throw me a curve ball or smack me down to the ground, but it's been a several weeks, and I'm still on my feet. It's a damn good feeling, I'm not going to lie, especially after that hell of a semester.

I wish I could freeze the next few months and just stay. I want to throw a potion or cast a spell over my world and slow the fuck down because I know, I know these months will fly by and come fall, I will be desperately clawing to retain these moments. I love my job. I love everything about it - feeling professional, the venue, getting paid to do what I love, my schedule, my fellow interns. There could not be a better way to spend the summer!

And I'm crazy for my boy. That ridiculous, swing your arms out and turn your face up to the sky, spinning and dizzy, wonderfulhappyamazement. I didn't know it could be like this! I honestly never could have even crafted this relationship in my head. It's above and beyond expectations - and yet, at the same time, so grounded and deep in my heart that I sometimes just want to cry and how happy and normal and right this feels. I'm daily surprised at how it's been almost four months - on one hand, who ever would've thought I'd stick with a guy this long... and on the other, wondering why it hasn't been six months, eight, a year. Every day is beautiful with him and it feels like we've already shared a million.

It's not that I'm not aware of the challenges this summer will bring. I'm not in denial about the terrors of the fall and finding and job and the (hopefully) impending move out of my parent's home. I think about these things daily. But just like that old Friday Five... I'm not going to feel entitled to this summer. I am grateful, so grateful, for everything, so I won't let worries about the future ruin the beautiful present.

I'm going to keep spinning, thank you very much.

what's good for you

For the first time in the history of my relationships, I am looking at the future.

For the past year, I thought I wasn't a "future" kind of girl. No rings, no white dresses, no bouquets to throw. No homes, no mortgages (at least, not with anyone's name beside mine on the papers). Certainly no children - they are the EPITOME of the future.

And then I met him. And things changed.

It's my little victory - this weekend, I will be celebrating my longest relationship (i.e., two months and SIX WHOLE DAYS). In another month, I will hopefully triumph over the Curse of May with him by my side. And honestly? I wouldn't be surprised if we actually made it all the way.

It's the little jokes about having children, but always with the "if" hanging over it. Using the "L" word, but only kidding. Playing with fingers and rings without saying a word. Describing wedding plans, in the hypothetical sense. And the other plans, so many plans, that might have nothing to do with marriage but everything to do with commitment. These things make me wonder if one day, I will share the white dress, the bouquet and the mortgage with him.

(Even my mother has noticed and made her own predictions about the possibilities of a ring on my finger in an ungodly short amount of time.)

But my favorite thing about us is that for I don't have to worry because we are in no rush to do anything. We're not rushing the ring. We drink in just being with each other, and there's that underlying assumption that there's never going to be a drought.

It's thrilling. It's scary. These are uncharted waters for me, but I've got a fellow sailor next to me who doesn't mind the lack of map. People always say it's the journey, not the destination, that matters - I'm ready for both.

I could stand here for hours just to ask God the question, "Is everyone here make believe?"

It's been a rough couple of weeks. I'd rather not talk about the painful moments - and there were several - when I was an emotional wreck, on academic suicide-watch and living in silence. I wanted to quit everything. But I didn't. Clearly, I'm still here.

So I'd like to give the State of the Union, highlighting the glimmers of hope to convince everyone that I am doing okay.

First, school is almost done. I am four weeks away from freedom! I do have two classes over the summer, but really? After this past semester, two three-credit classes spread over 12 weeks is going to be a breeze. Plus, I'm pretty sure I won the Professor Lottery and got two awesome professors.

Second, my boyfriend is the shit. He has been there every day for the past three weeks, whether by phone or in person, being a heart that cares for me, a source of comfort and a voice of reason. We've been working through a very rough time together (very early in the relationship, believe me, I know), but I am fiercely proud of the character we've both shown since that week. He really is unlike anyone I've ever been with, and I'm getting suspiciously comfortable with the idea of a future with him. Take that as you will.

Third, I got the photography internship at Wolf Trap. YES. Photographing bands and theater for the entire summer? Win. Getting paid to do so? EPIC win. And this just in - Matt (my best guy friend) is probably going to be working there this summer as well. Spending my summer doing something I love with someone I love? That's just too good to be true.

Fourth, I just bought a pair of aviator sunglasses. Yeah, I know this is no where near the other items on the scale of epicness, but, well, they make me really happy. And that's the spirit of this list, if not the letter.


I love you guys. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

i'm not the same survivor i used to be

Yesterday, I found out that someone I looked up to and respected made a Big Mistake. And it was in the worst way possible - the kind of mistake that rips up the hearts of everyone around them. As I left from hearing the news, I couldn't help but hold onto my quiet grief over the loss of one of the few Good humans almost as tightly as I held on to the boy walking beside me.

And my best friend told me she can't imagine how much harder it is for those that really knew him, knew both of them. And I'm sure that's true. But I also think it speaks to the immense loss that someone who only met him a handful of times can still feel this discouraged and betrayed. He Mattered. And now we'll never be able to look at him the same way, without the questions in our eyes. At least, I won't be able to.

I couldn't let the echo go in my head, even hours later as I lay next to my boyfriend, feeling every bit of our good intentions meeting more than halfway. And I know now that my fears are not meaningless or unfounded. This is what terrifies me about marriage and love and the worst of times - I'm terrified that I can't do it. I'm terrified that tomorrow I could hurt this boy who I am falling so hard for, that despite every word and kiss we mean with all of our hearts, that it still just might not be good enough. People FAIL. Miserably. I am no where near as strong as he was, so God, if he fell what hope do I have?

Good humans, Big Mistakes. And Love. I want to believe in Love! I want to wear blinders to all the numerous failures we make so I don't lose this fragile hope I have. But I also want to rejoice in the moments that we overcome those Big Mistakes. I just hope there are enough to make this pain worth the while.