I really take people and things for granted sometimes.
I love him. I really and truly love him. Before him, I hadn't held a boy's hand seriously since pre-school. Now I relish the feeling of his fingers between mine. He was my first date, my first kiss, my first love. And he will be my last.
I remember liking you, back two years ago in 2003 in April. Catching your eyes and yours catching mine, only to glance away, embarassed. We'd stay online all hours of the day, just chatting about nonsense. Remember our proposed pajama barbeque? You promised to carry me half across Staten Island if I could just go over your house. I remember thinking how witty you were. I remember being sick and you offering me a "prescription." I remember liking you and hiding it, reveling in my little secret crush on the boy with the glasses and sideburns.
Remember the first time we talked on the phone? My dad picked up, and you started stuttering and probably, knowing you, shaking. We talked for two hours straight, and my heart was skipping beats through the entire conversation.
You asked me out in front of the divider between Applebees and Genovese, and I remember you said, "I kinda like you. And I think you're nice." And I knew that I more than "kinda liked you."
I remember going on our first date to see Anger Management at the movies. We were too scared to even hold hands, so we resorted to playing mercy. Our hands got hopelessly entwined, and for a few breathtaking moments, we left them there, avoiding each other's eyes. The pizzaria was closed, and we had to go to Wendy's. You were so disappointed - Wendy's on a first date? I tripped into the door that night, and I remember squealing and wriggling in my bed, thinking about you and wanting desperately to see you again.
I remember walking home from the Talent Show, getting the hang of holding hands. We were by the corner of school when you told me you loved me.
"I don't want to sound stupid, but I think it's past like. Like it's... love or something. ... No wait, it's uber-like. Yeah, that's it, uber-like."
And I knew you meant love.
I remember our disasterous first kiss - we were so ashamed that we both began to hysterically laugh. How could other people kiss, but not us?
Our first anniversary with the Cookie Puss cake.
Our six-month anniversary which was made to be a disaster - complete with the bowling alley on fire! Everything seemed to always go delightfully wrong when we were on a special occasion.
I remember lying down on top of you on the floor, listening to your heart and your breathing, just talking about our childhood and other nonsense. And relishing in that moment of just being with you.
Remember when you went away to Florida? It was our two-month anniversary, and you were in another state. You could barely call me, and I remember being anxious, waiting for you to return. You brought and armful of gifts back, that easy grin playing across your face.
I remember the voice mails you'd send me, just so I could listen to them late at night. My knees would go weak when your voice would go deep and emotional. Those whispered "I love yous" were some of the greatest.
I remember watching you at a Yankee game, looking at the curve of your face and knowing that I was going to marry you. In that single moment, knowing that I had met my soulmate.
I remember driving home one night, just me and you, sitting in the seats and screaming our lungs out with the windows rolled up, just because it felt so good. Sitting in silence with you in the car is one of the greatest feelings in the world.
I remember when you couldn't drive, and my mom used to drive you home. Our goodbyes would last 15 minutes, because I didn't want to let you go. An aching feeling would spread in my chest as you walked through the screen door.
I remember one of our worst fights, when we got out of MDA and into my mom's car. We sat there apologizing, and under the feeble lamppost light, I saw your eyes, glassy with heldback tears. I remember the first time that I saw you cry, and even though I was upset and mad, I remember reveling in the way your tears clumped your eyelashes together.
I remember you surprising me at school, bringing me chicken soup when I was sick, and taking me to restaurants when I least expected it.
I remember sitting on my porch with you, staring up at the stars and leaning on your shoulder, just feeling content that I was alive and here with you. Remember the first time that I fell asleep on you?
I remember being unsure about how your body looked, and then seeing you shirtless in the pool and having my heart race and stop at the same time. We were wrapped in the same towel, shivering bodies pressed against each other and I knew there wasn't any other place I'd rather be than there in your strong arms.
I remember our city trips, the bus rides, going to the Javitt's Center for the car shows. We were fighting, and I lost you in the maze on purpose. You found me in the Chevy section, emotionally drained and worn out. The Tribeca Film Festival, and you having to wait on a totally separate line because I had a ticket and you didn't. I'd curl up next to you on the rides home, snuggled against your shoulder. When we met Teri, Daniel, and Adam in the city and we went everywhere - from the Christmas tree to Sharper Image, the firefighter store and Friday's.
I remember when you gave me your undershirt, and I would sleep in it, entranced by your smell, and wishing that you were curled up against me. The nights that we'd fight, I'd hug JoeBear and want you so desperately it hurt.
I remember when I surprised you on the job, I walked in and you were so sucked in by your retail world that you didn't even notice I was standing in front of you. Your face lit up when you saw me, a mixture of relief and undeniable love.
I love you. I really, truly love you. I love you so much that my fingers are itching to dial your number right now.
Maybe I'll call.
