“A year?” My dad is looking at me with a question mark and
three ex-wives in his eyes. We’re sitting in a friend’s living room, sweating
out our memorial day in hotdog and potato chip glory.
“Yeah, a year, we’re both so happy, so we figured, why wait?”
I am aglow, the prospect of legally binding myself to him is thrilling and
something I can’t help but want.
“How long have you guys been together, again?” I can feel
the conversation tipping away from the giddy ideals of my mind to the harsh
realism of my dad’s.
“A month.” I’m smiling and I think the pull of lips and
teeth might just break my face. I sip on my tap water and hope that my enthusiasm
will change his cynical mood toward the idea, but somewhere in my mind I know
that that won’t be the case.
“Let me get this straight, you’ve known this kid for a
little over a month and you guys are already planning to get married?”
This is the easy part, talking about us. I know that I may
be able to convince him, slightly.
“Yeah, Dad. He’s honestly one of the greatest people I’ve
ever met. He’s so honest and kind and respectful and I love him.”
I tell him of how Mike and I spent four straight days
together and how all I wanted was for those days to continue on into forever.
*
It’s cold in the restaurant and I can still feel the
flavoring from my tea on my lips. The glaring red of peppers hangs on signs
above our booth and I can feel a hurricane inside myself. I’m staring at my
food and I have no real want of eating it. I know it will taste good but the
image of the police officer removing my license plate and my car on a tow truck
keeps getting in the way of my mouth.
Mike is on the phone with his sister. She tells him of how
the officer is still waiting around at my car. There’s apparently a ticket on
my windshield.
I don’t know whether to puke or cry. If my body could handle
it, I would run to the bathroom right now and do both. But I’ve got to hold it
together.
Mike puts down his phone and takes my hands. His legs already
encircle mine from across the booth and I love how he always wants to hold me.
“It’ll be okay baby, we’ll get it figured out, I promise. I
know it sucks right now, but I’m here, you’re alive and we’ll figure everything
else.”
These words do little but they ease the urge to vomit a bit.
I know that he’s right. I am alive, which is more than I could ever ask for. I
am with someone who loves me and we’re happy together.
The urge to cry doesn’t disappear because I have just
accepted a new job at Denny’s and I have no idea how the hell I’m going to get
to work. I keep telling myself to hold it together. I push on and nibble at my
steak.
“You know what, baby?” I look up from my food and tilt my
head, “we’re going on an adventure today. Somewhere really special.”
I brighten at the idea of an adventure. He lays out the itinerary
for me and the distraction starts to change my mood.
“We’ll go to Target and get you some clothes for tomorrow,
since it’s right here and then we’ll head out to this place I know. I know you’re
going to love it.”
The mystery of it all makes the urge to cry dissipate and
since I have short term goal in mind, my mind starts to ease up a little bit.
1.
Target – get clothes
2.
Secret place – have a wonderful time.
These two things make me brighten and I finish my tea.
Blackberry tea, it’s as sweet as summer and I tell Mike of how I began everyday
last summer with a hot dog and an Arnold Palmer.
*
I can’t explain to my dad how every moment that Mike and I
spend together feels extraordinary. I can’t explain how it changes my life to
be with him and how our lives were seemingly written in tandem with each other.
I can’t make three ex-wives, five children and twenty-some
long years of child support disappear. What I can do is hopefully inspire him
with my energy. I can hopefully remind him that I am smart. I can tell when
things aren’t going to work for me in a relationship. I want to show him how
this man, who I’ve just met, has so easily gained my trust and my beliefs.
I’m still sitting on the couch of a friend’s house and their
dogs are taking a shine to me in the way that most animals do. The carpet
smells of cleaner and lavender and I take a piece of cake when offered. Because
that’s what it feels like, having my cake and eating it too.
When else will I find someone whose morals and ideas about
life are so similar to my own? When else
will I find someone who is so ready to build me up and build a life with me?
I know that this isn’t something that happens every day. I
mean, how often does the person you’ve been dreaming about just happen to walk
by the library when you’re standing outside it by chance? It doesn’t.
*
“Well, we’re gonna stop interrupting your class and head
back to Kayla’s room, it’s nap time.”
I’ve skipped my Monday class, because I can go to it on
Wednesday and there is a buzz in the air. Kayla, my best friend, and I have
decided to make our rounds and visit our professors, but the rounds are coming
to a close and I can feel two a clock hitting me like a drum.
My body wants to sleep.
We step outside of Buhl and into the space between
buildings. The sun is so warm and the break from bitter cold makes us chattery.
We talk with almost everyone who walks by.
I barely notice the guy who walks by in a purple shirt and
dress pants. In fact, it’s Kayla who shouts to him that he’s looking pretty
dapper today. He joins our conversation
and we talk for a while. There’s got to be magic in the last two weeks of a
mostly magic-less semester.
My phone shouts, “SUGAR PEAS!” in a four year old’s voice
and the new comer’s curiosity is piqued.
“You haven’t heard of Bravest Warriors?!” the both of us
hurry to bring him into the madness of our newest online addiction.
“No, I’ve never seen it.” He tells us and we’re extended
invitation to introduce him to it in his room.
An hour later, I’m heading over to the Writing Center and I
text Kayla to tell her that:
”Mike’s really cute.”
I know that there isn't much time left in the semester but there’s still a small part of me that hopes that I will find someone. Even though I gave up looking.
It takes me a day to get his number from Kayla and a day to
invite him over for tacos. Tacos can be magical.
*
“Baby, I want to propose to you every day, I’m just waiting
to have the means to.”
I’m not sure, but I think a bomb has gone off in my head.
This is not your ordinary bomb, however, because this one is filled with cherry
blossoms and music and light and laughter. I could explode. I do but with
words.
“Baby, oh-my-gosh,” the words are tumbling out of my mouth
faster than I can form the thoughts preceding them and I gush, “I love you so
much. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
Three serious relationships hang above my head and the
moment he speaks, they are rewritten.
I know that all of the pain has been worth it to get to this
point. I know that everything has been worth it, and my karmic I-O-U has been
paid in the best of ways.
The person before me is someone I wouldn’t trade the world
for. He’s kind, respectful, beautiful and everything I could ever ask for and
more.
He constantly reminds me of the lines:
“I think I made you up
in my head.”
From Sylvia Plath’s, ‘Mad Girl’s Love Song’.
Because I couldn’t dream of a better person. I couldn’t
imagine a person made of star light, who simply knows who I am and respects the
inner core of my being. I know that we are two trees that have naturally grown
together and the organic natural of our relationship is amazing.
These words are beautiful. These words are true.
I can see us standing together, saying the vows that we
wrote ourselves and laughing because we’re just so damn happy. We are Christy
and Annie. We would go to hell and back for one another, because it’s the
natural course of things for us.
Inside of myself is a patch of grass and in the center is an
oak tree. More than once, initials have been carved into this tree, with knives
and sticks and stones, but our initials exist in the pattern of the bark. We
come naturally.
