I'm not at all entirely sure what I should be writing about right now. My brain is full of a million different ideas, but some of them are bad, some of them would be poorly timed, and some of them are only half baked. So here I sit, in front of a large blank screen, with nothing but half planned posts and chocolate.
I suppose I could start off by saying that 2pm on Friday the 4th of January couldn't get here fast enough. It was bad enough that TheBoy was gone in the first place, and then there was stuff and things that made it all the more difficult to just sit and wait for him to come home. Waiting in anticipation for him to come back, I had that wonderful type of excitement and nervousness for an event that doesn't allow you to sleep for very long and minutes pass like hours.
But then it was 12:30 in the afternoon and I loaded my things in my little white car, hugged my momma goodbye and headed for the airport to pick up that sweet boy. I parked in a metered space and sat on a bench inside the airport, impatiently waiting for him to walk through the gate. Slowly people were showing up and meeting their families and I could tell they were on the flight from Seattle because of how they were dressed. You know what I'm talking about. Plaid shirts, slouchy hats, hipster glasses.
And there was TheBoy, black jacket, jeans, island-tanned skin, freckly face and the best smile. He put his arm around me and kissed me as we walked down to baggage claim to get the rest of his things. Can I just tell you that, boy, I don't think I've ever been that glad to see somebody.
We drove back to Moscow from the airport. He talked about his trip and about his family, a little of this and a little of that.
I'm having trouble gauging how much detail to get into, because to me the little things are the big things, but then I don't want to bore everyone to tears with an hour long blog post that no one wants to read in minute detail. But really, the things that make me like this boy so much are things that no one catches. The small quirks that are shared just between us.
Like the way he holds my hand in the car, or touches my head, or plays with my hair. He kisses my forehead and I just don't want to move when he's got me in both his arms and my head is resting just perfectly on his chest. I don't know if I should share those moments, or keep them to myself. But when he told me to write about all that I did this weekend, those are the things that are replaying over and over in my mind.
Maybe other people would write about the walks they went on, the games they played, the movies they watched - because we do all those things too. I was introduced to Hook this weekend - with Robin Williams and Julia Roberts - and I really liked it. T Lily was around this weekend too and brought with her all the whirlwind of emotions that come with reconnecting with your best friend after spending six months apart. She is the coolest, I tell you what. But in the end, I just write about the things that matter to me.
So this weekend was a lot of things, and if I had to pick my favorite part I don't think that I could do it. Maybe I would say there was a moment at a restaurant where he said something that I don't know if he knew he said it, but it's been stuck in my brain ever since. Or maybe I would tell you about how he plays his new guitar and something about the sound makes me feel lonely but connected at the very same time and I never want him to stop playing ever. Or maybe my favorite part is just being near to him.
Everything about this relationship surprises me. Nothing turns out the way that I think it will, which so far is a really good thing.
So there you go, that was my weekend.