I set foot in this city, and just walking down the street, it was like roots.
I went over to Jason's new apartment after the ~cabin~ on Sunday. I love the city so much, it's so much more homey to me than a private place on lots of land. There's beauty there too but I thrive on the hustle and bustle, the height of everything, all the color and character. The lights. How it always feels awake. The place is beautiful, he's up on the 16th floor and I can't wait until it's painted. When I got here, he had gotten me a loofah. "I'm not sure if this is even the right kind but this was most like the one you have in your bathroom." ♥ He told me to make him a list of everything else I need - "your kind of shampoo and stuff" - so he could get it for me. "I want you to feel comfortable here, I don't want you to have to worry about anything." He also left me space in his closet and "I don't know what these shelves are for but they look like they'd be perfect for shoes and I don't have THAT many so if you ever want to keep any here..." It's fucking adorable. Sometimes it freaks me out but not as much as I expected it to, I guess. Also I feel so much better about this relationship now that he has a job and a nice place. It sounds really shallow or something but it's just that my parents have given me enough financial stress growing up and I made up my mind long ago that I never wanted to worry about money. I didn't need to be rich, I just needed to be okay. Stable. Before this happened, I felt those issues creeping into my relationship. I know we love each other and that's all that should matter, but it stressed me out and I didn't even know how much it was emotionally holding me back until it was no longer a problem. There are still times when I want to be single, there probably always will be just because so much of my life and who I am are built on it. But I do know that if I'm to "be" with anybody, he's one hell of a contender.
He gave me keys. And in all the movies and television shows, that's always the big moment for the girl. It did make me happy but it felt natural at the same time. It also made me feel like an asshole because I know if it were me, if I were the one getting a new apartment, I wouldn't be so quick to give him a set. I'm an open person but I need privacy and safe places that are mine entirely. The concept of not having one, not having some boundary somewhere, scares the hell out of me. Even when I have nothing to hide or keep, I need to have a door I can shut.
We kissed in the empty space, the city out the window. He pushed me against a wall and then threw me up and caught me on his hips in less than a second. The strength and speed amazed me. "God I love being thrown around," I told him. "I was always afraid to at your place because I didn't want to break any of your shit."
... I probably wouldn't have cared.
We (let's face it - he) made amazing chicken stir fry and we were just really happy, you know? Paint swatches taped to the wall, bare and freshly cleaned carpet, "no pants apartment!". We curled up into the tiny twin bed they're lending him until his new bed gets here and marathoned TV shows on his laptop. We sleep with the blinds open because we love the way the light shines through. I stepped on a tiny shard of glass in his kitchen - he broke a dish moving in, he swept endlessly but still missed this speck. He materialized tweezers seemingly out of nowhere and when it bled, he did the same with a band aid. I was afraid to come in the kitchen after that. I hovered in the doorway in my underwear and his big white shirt, up on tiptoes and he slid me a pair of his sandals.
I beat him there Monday after work. The joy on his face not only as he saw me but as he saw my make-up on his counter is among the happiest I've ever seen him. We walked through the skyway to get to a new burger place we read about but when we stepped outside, it was pouring rain. Now, I'm not one to care about getting a little wet but I had my fancy shoes and my Coach bag so naturally I didn't feel the same sort of prancing impulses I normally do under the sweet weight of precipitation. We waited under the same skyway to see if it would clear up. We kissed in the meantime, and slow danced to the sincere classic beat of summer rain hitting crisp concrete. Hotel guests and taxi cabs, walls painted like sheet music and tens of stories of glowing glass up all around us.
We decided to make a break for it. He hid my bag under his shirt so it wouldn't get wet. ♥. The burger place sucked - it was complicated and not at all how it read. We were going to at least order a drink so I could calm the fuck down but when our waiter mysteriously disappeared, I decided they didn't deserve even just a drink and we left. As we were walking out the door, we passed an older couple and asked them for a dinner rec. "What kind of food are you looking for?" Burgers, fries, classic good American food. "You should try The News Room!" the man said. His wife chimed in, "Oh my god, yes! In fact, we could even go there..." "You want to go there?" he asked her. "Yes!" she said, lit. And this couple, they are so lovely, they offered to walk us there and even gave us one of their umbrellas. ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ When we got to the restaurant, the man opened the door for us, bowed his head and told us to have a great night. It balanced the universe.
The place was amazing. An old ship was erected above the bar and the wallpaper was made of newspaper photos. Old headlines and front pages were blown up and framed - "Wright Brothers Fly", "James Dean Dead". The tables were glass covers, shadowboxes almost, full of words and wooden blocks. The menu was a newspaper, folded up, flimsy and aged. ♥. I got a white wine and we spent the dinner just brainstorming - on fire - talking a mile a minute and flailing our hands all over the place because we can't even contain our ideas and they're coming into existence faster than we can even speak them. We want to open a themed coffee shop. The walk back was beautiful, it still smelled like rain and tiny puddles had collected in the uneven bits of path. Dark but so lit, so calm and easy, so much like home.
He gave me keys. And in all the movies and television shows, that's always the big moment for the girl. It did make me happy but it felt natural at the same time. It also made me feel like an asshole because I know if it were me, if I were the one getting a new apartment, I wouldn't be so quick to give him a set. I'm an open person but I need privacy and safe places that are mine entirely. The concept of not having one, not having some boundary somewhere, scares the hell out of me. Even when I have nothing to hide or keep, I need to have a door I can shut.
We kissed in the empty space, the city out the window. He pushed me against a wall and then threw me up and caught me on his hips in less than a second. The strength and speed amazed me. "God I love being thrown around," I told him. "I was always afraid to at your place because I didn't want to break any of your shit."
... I probably wouldn't have cared.
We (let's face it - he) made amazing chicken stir fry and we were just really happy, you know? Paint swatches taped to the wall, bare and freshly cleaned carpet, "no pants apartment!". We curled up into the tiny twin bed they're lending him until his new bed gets here and marathoned TV shows on his laptop. We sleep with the blinds open because we love the way the light shines through. I stepped on a tiny shard of glass in his kitchen - he broke a dish moving in, he swept endlessly but still missed this speck. He materialized tweezers seemingly out of nowhere and when it bled, he did the same with a band aid. I was afraid to come in the kitchen after that. I hovered in the doorway in my underwear and his big white shirt, up on tiptoes and he slid me a pair of his sandals.
I beat him there Monday after work. The joy on his face not only as he saw me but as he saw my make-up on his counter is among the happiest I've ever seen him. We walked through the skyway to get to a new burger place we read about but when we stepped outside, it was pouring rain. Now, I'm not one to care about getting a little wet but I had my fancy shoes and my Coach bag so naturally I didn't feel the same sort of prancing impulses I normally do under the sweet weight of precipitation. We waited under the same skyway to see if it would clear up. We kissed in the meantime, and slow danced to the sincere classic beat of summer rain hitting crisp concrete. Hotel guests and taxi cabs, walls painted like sheet music and tens of stories of glowing glass up all around us.
We decided to make a break for it. He hid my bag under his shirt so it wouldn't get wet. ♥. The burger place sucked - it was complicated and not at all how it read. We were going to at least order a drink so I could calm the fuck down but when our waiter mysteriously disappeared, I decided they didn't deserve even just a drink and we left. As we were walking out the door, we passed an older couple and asked them for a dinner rec. "What kind of food are you looking for?" Burgers, fries, classic good American food. "You should try The News Room!" the man said. His wife chimed in, "Oh my god, yes! In fact, we could even go there..." "You want to go there?" he asked her. "Yes!" she said, lit. And this couple, they are so lovely, they offered to walk us there and even gave us one of their umbrellas. ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ When we got to the restaurant, the man opened the door for us, bowed his head and told us to have a great night. It balanced the universe.
The place was amazing. An old ship was erected above the bar and the wallpaper was made of newspaper photos. Old headlines and front pages were blown up and framed - "Wright Brothers Fly", "James Dean Dead". The tables were glass covers, shadowboxes almost, full of words and wooden blocks. The menu was a newspaper, folded up, flimsy and aged. ♥. I got a white wine and we spent the dinner just brainstorming - on fire - talking a mile a minute and flailing our hands all over the place because we can't even contain our ideas and they're coming into existence faster than we can even speak them. We want to open a themed coffee shop. The walk back was beautiful, it still smelled like rain and tiny puddles had collected in the uneven bits of path. Dark but so lit, so calm and easy, so much like home.