October 27, 2002
Football and Beer
So many things that have been said, and are yet left to say, this weekend.
"So when are we going to get married and have little Mikes so I can go to school for free?"
I grin, swilling pink lemonade.
"I have a brilliant idea."
"Go on."
"We'll get married, but you have the baby."
"Okay. I can do that."
"It's a deal then."
But that was Friday. On Saturday.
We are eating White Castles at the quasi-kitchen table. It's roughly eleven-thirty, the house is quiet. He is looking at me.
"What are you thinking about?"
He smiles.
"I don't know. I was just thinking about how you were saying you wanted to get married outside. I can just see you in this Victorian like dress... well, not Victorian, exactly, but not traditional. With a thing on your forehead."
All of this is accompanied by gestures to indicate exactly what a 'thing' on my forehead is.
"Yeah... like a circlet. And I want a veil." I shudder. "But icky girly thoughts. I don't want to think them."
Mike's smile widens.
"I like that idea, though. So you have to do it, if we ever do."
A few moments later.
"How long has it been? Not even four months?"
"Not yet."
He glances down.
"You're really moving in on me quick."
I smile softly, the same thoughts revolving in my head.
"I know."
Haven't I known him forever? Hasn't it been ages since our first date, our first kiss, our first three hour conversation?
It's almost four months. Only four months.
I wonder... did he ever mention marriage idly with his ex-girlfriend, who so desperately wanted to be engaged to him? Not so long ago he was saying he couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life with anyone, he was talking about being young, about being scared.
He jokes about it all the time, now. And I just smile and laugh and inside my heart is quaking.
See, I think the way to knowing that you are really in love is when you start thinking seriously about what were previously totally ludicrous things.
I came home at one-thirty last night, amazingly early for me. Various Argosy males were coming over to play football on the playstation and drink beer... and somehow I just didn't feel that I belonged. He hangs out with me all of the time. He can hang out with them, too.
It was comforting, of course, that he didn't want me to go home.
After ten hours of sleep, I feel delicious. I don't want to talk about the horrors of work last night or the horrors of doing approximately five hours of schoolwork later today. I just want to talk about him, and the amazing person that he is.
I told him he was wonderful last night. Not that it doesn't come shining out of my eyes everytime I see him... but sometimes I just want to say it.
Even if he does take the big towel for himself and offer me the dishtowel.
We talked about wasting time last night. Sometimes, however, laying next to him is an activity in of itself. Not doing anything. Talking or dozing. Sharing warmth.
I feel like I will look back on this, years from now, with his gaze settled still comfortably on me. These past few months...
He doesn't cling to me like Ryan did. He doesn't always have his arm about me, always pressing me tight against him. He doesn't need to.
I'm not going anywhere.
astera at 11:51 a.m.