i've waited for
so
long
to be in love and i've done my time, worked my fields
and now here he is, you know?
i don't know, the comfort level is one i never thought i'd reach.
we decided that the labels that denote boyfriend/girlfriend are lame, because as soon as you're boyfriend/girlfriend, you have to stay that way until you become fiancees..... and there are SO MANY LEVELS of commitment in between. SO. we decided....
it's a rainbow.
pinky pink when you first get started.
red when you commit.
we hit orange when i got the keys to his apartment. full-on-orange when we said we loved each other.
yellow is on its way... we're goldenrod right now because we bought the bed. i'll meet his parents on saturday. on our way to hello, yellow.
green is... living together. it'll happen. we're moving to portland in june together. we'll see you there.
blue. engaged.
indigo. married.
violet. after that.
i guess i should reevaluate, because the whole point was for the rainbow to span the entire life of the boyfriend-girlfriend span... then the fiancee thing happens afterward. maybe there should be more gradients... i don't know. oh well. i'm just happy we're goldenrod.
I honestly never thought that I would fall in love. I mean, I hoped with all of my being that it would happen someday, and I knew that I
deserved to fall in love, what with me being such a good person and all... but I really never thought it would happen. My luck in love has been so bad, so... discouraging. I've never sat comfortable inside anyone else's love before.
But it happened! Dear readers, it happened. Right here in Fresno, California, what I once regarded as a virtual wasteland of talentless, uninteresting people. Fresno brought me the person I am supposed to have.
Without getting sappy, I must relate that the best portion of the relationship is that we are so open with each other, and the expression of said love is abundant and honest. I promise to not overload you with tales of passion, soul-searching, deep talks or descriptions of his eyes... I promise. Just know that I feel fulfilled in a way I thought was impossible.
His name is Eric.
a stupid love poem
I'm so sorry that I am crying right now.
tense tears
push out like
grocery carts full of emotion.
You unzip my skin
since my clothes are already strewn
on your carpet.
peeled petals, stamen exposed.
You finger my veins,
watch as I can't stop my
skin from sliding.
I pull on the waistband,
struggle with sleeves of flesh
but all is futile.
You forgive a hundred sutured moments
that you discover in my exposure
and beneath you see
my salvaged sentimentality,
preserved.
And here is the rub.
You don't turn away.
You don't find a greyhound excuse
or a hackneyed trapdoor
to route your escape.
You stay.
You hold that tender, road-weary little
heart of mine.
(I cringe at these cliches but
know no other words)
and stay.
Careful, slow, you wipe the tears
from my fevered cheeks.
I'm so sorry that I am crying right now
my grocery carts
crashing into you.
I'm sorry, so vulnerable and sorry.
I'm an exhibitionist! Why am I suddenly
so humbled, harrowed
by this vulnerability?
method slows. Your hands, still steady.
focus sharpens
you are watching me
you are watching
the carts line up
emptying into you
I grasp you everywhere.
Desperate, I am weeping.
I leave that greyhound ticket
within your reach
but you stay.
You stay.
