I think my body is degenerating from lack of movement. Darn you, midterms!
Stay, stay, stay.
New friends at Full Moon Sushi. Sweet treats at Class 302 with old friends. Lots of laughter and good conversation. Halloween weekend and we’re not even dressed up. With just Don and I left, we ended the night in his car listening to Taylor Swift, and it brought back a timeline surge of nostalgia— the good kind. It reminded me of when we were young and dumb incoming college students, debating about how different we were ‘til the windows fogged, the sun came up, our cd of choice replayed three times, and he sat next to me as my best friend. We did everything together and one was usually not without the other for too long without it feeling weird. Even when he went to UCLA, I was dating someone else, and we were miles apart, it felt unnerving when we didn’t know the happenings or the whereabouts of the other. Forward a few more years, a break up on my end, lots of time to grow separately, and finally, it seemed as though we were on the same page to give things a shot for real. How exciting, but not really. I remember when Don and I first started dating, we were a hot mess despite how put together we appeared on the outside. Was I supposed to call him first every night? I don’t even like the phone!! Were we supposed to plan dates now instead of bumming around in our PJs and watching movies all day? Who pays? Am I now supposed to correct his mom when she calls me his best friend, not his girlfriend? Where’s the fine line between alone time and communal growth? Despite everything we knew about each other, we didn’t know how to date. We didn’t have the first-time-meet-up-at-a-coffee-shop-butterflies. We were backwards from the beginning, opposites to a T, and we were somehow built to defy every Serendipity-esque chick-flick on Netflix about a girl and guy meeting spontaneously and falling in love. The truth is everyone and every relationship is different. For us, time is a blessing rather than a curse. We aren’t a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate because we’re about to fizzle out, but rather a work in progress that only God can build upon day by day. Everyday, we learn more about each other as a couple, as best friends, and as each other’s cheerleaders. I trust him with my trials and triumphs, and he can depend on me to cook him up a mean meal whenever he’s had a long day. I know we’re going to have our good days and our bad because every couple does, but I can’t imagine enduring this kind of love with anyone else. In these little moments, I can see us doing this for the rest of our lives, not because we are blinded by each other’s perfections but because we see each other’s flaws and still choose love and silly dancing by ourselves in his car ‘til 2 in the morning. :)
In the wake of death,
There is only what you did and did not do for another.
And I could have done better.
Rest in peace.
Your ability to help is only limited by your creativity.