This past weekend, I had the opportunity to visit my boyfriend in New York. We live about six hours apart, so seeing him involves a lengthy road trip on toll roads and back alley streets through farm country. But it was all so worth it.
Having him there and holding me and kissing me and seeing his face light up when I said his name made me so happy. I got to see his house and his town and meet his friends and family. It made me realize that he had a life before he met me, and although he tells me stories of his shenanigans pre-college, I'll never truly understand the person he was prior to me. I'll never know about his first kiss and the awkwardness he felt. or how he felt moving to upstate New York as a little kid, just like he'll never understand why I dropped out of catholic school or how blissfully happy I was during last summer. I can tell him about it all I want, but he wasn't there with me experiencing it. He won't get it. I guess it's just something weird to think about. I feel close to all my college friends, but I'll never truly understand the experiences that shaped them into the person that they are today.
Sean has this beautiful house. It's all decorated so pretty and he has a pool and his own bathroom and everything. I think my favorite part was waking up and being surrounded by him. I was staying in his room, so the first things I saw when I opened my eyes were little pieces of him. Cute baby photos, a collection of books, tiny bottles of cologne, framed drawings he created when he was a kid. Of course, there was physically him, creeping into the room waking me up and slipping under the covers with me. And then we just lay there in his bed somewhere in that place in between being awake and dreaming. It was perfect. The whole trip was really perfect.
Another great part was driving around town at night. Sean lives kind of in the middle of nowhere, so there aren't many streetlights or spotlights. So when you drive, the sky is so clear. It's dotted with little specks of stars. You could make out constellations. Sean and I laid out in the hammock and pointed out shapes in the stars and clouds. It was, well, perfect.
What I'm trying to say is that I love this kid. He makes me impossibly happy. He does everything he can to make sure we will be okay. He is breaking his back at a tough job making sure he has enough money to come back to school so we will be together. He doesn't make fun of the weird way I cut tomatoes, or how I have to sleep with a pillow over my head. He is the best thing in my life. I'm with him and I know we will be okay and we will be happy for a long time. Thank you so much, Sean, for being wonderfully perfect.
