NINE MONTHS.
Today marks nine months of being with Eric. It feels ceremonious in a way. Like, I have come so far in my life and I have learned so many lessons, this is my reward. It's been worth it. It really has. The lengthy relationship drama I endured throughout the course of college and afterwards... and the volatile "single years" following college... all of it was worth it. I ended up with someone who can make me happy on all of the levels I need to be happy. He supports when I am weak and makes me laugh even when he's not trying to... and he loves me. He really loves me. More than I thought anyone could ever love me.
Anyway. Besides that, I thought of my novel today. Is it worth finishing? With this final distance I have achieved with Eric, could I give it the finishing touches it needs to be complete? If nothing else, it would be nice to have closure. And nice to work on something creative in that vein again. I've been saying I need to start writing again... maybe finishing the novel will satisfy that urge. Especially sinec things at home are sort of... uncomfortable right now. A little tight around the waistline. I need to breathe on my own accord. Even falling asleep last night, I was happy for the air in front of my face and my own arms around my back. There is no question of the necessity of Eric, there is only question of my own self-security and confidence.
There will be closure and there will be satisfaction.
It's getting to the point in Fresno where the air starts smelling like heated blacktop, warm dirt, mosquitos and hot olives smashed on the sidewalk. I can still get out of my car without immediately losing breath (heated air not providing enough oxygen in some way), but I can't walk from my car to my apartment without getting a line of sweat under my bra, under my hair.
We sleep with the fan on, window open, but we only turn the air conditioner on for a few minutes when we first get home.
I watched him sleeping this morning, a bead of sweat on his forehead. He felt me watch him, brought me closer, and the dampness of my face on his neck wasn't uncomfortable.
It's getting to the point in Fresno where I can wear skirts, but it's not to the point where I can go swimming yet. He told me he's safe in our love. I told him I love him more today than yesterday (a little bit extra in love with him, is what I said).
I will try to wear my hair down as much as I can, but it's getting hot. I might have to pull it back so he can see my whole face. Last night at 11:30, he went to the store to get me allergy meds. He begged me to let him go. "So you can sleep," he said.
It's getting hot in Fresno.
