Maybe we were made for this *edit*

“It’s like you were meant to be here”
”not like…it just is”

I had a dream last night which should have terrified me. It should have made my stomach ball into knots and sent me running for the hills with its sudden arrival. I blame sappy love songs, and random teardrops of happy that leaked out of the corners of my eye on the way home, when the girl wasn’t looking. I woke up crying this morning, not because of the headache (damn three day migraines) but because it was beautiful. I was crying because of the beautiful, and an overwhelming sense of happy that I couldn’t stop, couldn’t contain and didn’t want to. There was an empty side of my bed this morning that was supposed to be full of the warm of her – I looked for the indentation, didn’t find it, decided that the dragon-unicorn was a poor substitution but would work in a crunch and rolled over for a miniature cat nap before the snooze button decided to not be my friend.

I’ve decided that these weekends, these spaces when the rest of the world seems to stand still and I wrap myself around this something wonderful that breathes, has a brain, has a life of its own that two people feed into is the real. This is how it’s supposed to be. It’s my every day life when I’m not immersed in that, that’s a dream. So I’m carried relentlessly from one reality to the next, imagining a world full of possibilities. This weekend was perfect. Wasn’t close to, wasn’t almost – it really was, just perfect. The headache came and went, but when it was there, I wasn’t paying attention. She was good at finding cures for it, regardless. It really began on Thursday night. I spent the night at her house, tangled up in a mess of blankets and conversation. Friday I was a glowing mess of happy – with lingering pieces stuck to me like my body had the consistency of glue – and it might have. I vaguely remember working that day, I was busy reading and re-reading and imagining letters, words on paper seem in a way so much more real than the spoken. Your brain can twist the spoken, make it remember it differently, despite your best efforts to hold on. And I want to remember everything. I want a freeze frame, a digital photo-album of sentences and words that I can loop in my head for my dreaming moments, carrying me from one real to the next. Friday night was in and out – shots, cleaning, dancing around in my living room to new music and the possibilities of hope.

Saturday I was up early (for me..as a sidenote, I used to look forward to weekends solely for the sleeping-in. I haven’t slept in for a month straight, and I’m finding that I don’t miss it much. I feel like if I sleep too long, I’m going to miss something, miss a chance or an opportunity and my eyes will not stay closed. I’m going to have to have a talk with my body about the necessity of opening at 7 am on a Saturday/Sunday…I don’t think I’ll miss much if they can stay closed until 9…but otherwise, I’m good) to have a chat with my sponsor, who had a bad night on Friday and needed some comfort. Really, what she needed was someone to just listen, and to remind her that she’s okay. I can do that. Then was more remnant cleaning, more underwear dancing and sitting out on the balcony waiting for the text that my love was headed home from the maid of honor fascinating journey into table linens. And I was on my way, car singing – car dancing, and grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. Saturday was spent in lounging, lazy bliss. Exploration. Melting moments of clarity. A long, drawn out but perfect meandering walk downtown, full of fingers wrapped through mine, shark teeth, perfect photo opportunities, salt water, dolphins, playground equipment, long conversations. Dinner was a success, minus the fact that you do NOT, contrary to popular belief, need a corkscrew to open a bottle of cooking wine with a twist off lid, while on the phone to a best friend/soul mate, half a country away. We sat on the balcony and talked of family, dreams, security and feelings. We speak of feelings a lot, which has been a big no-no for me for as long as I can remember – the ability to express them openly, without a fear of judgment or trepidation. It was a night under the glow of stars, shining supernovas. It was a night of challenges, of pauses in kitchen cleanups in order to make other messes. It was a night of one word hold-outs, and finally a please…just fucking please in the absolute dark amid skipping cds. I’m fine. I promise I’m fine. It was a night of bliss that transcended the happy for something else. Something deeper.

Sunday, with it’s 60% chance of rain, didn’t chance it. And earlier than we had to be up, we were sitting on the couch laughing, waiting for the time to leave. We went to Perkins for breakfast, meeting up with two of the scoobies for the first time, fashionably late, but good impressions were made. The two of them went to Busch Gardens for the beer. We went for the experience. So it was the mixed joy of meeting my friends, along with actually getting to wander around amid the hand-holding joyful bliss by ourselves. We rode one roller coaster. Saw a lot of animals. Saw a lot of the same animals multiple times, actually. We went on the Safari through the grasslands, where she hand-fed and pet giraffes, the glee-face permanently captured by cell-phone camera, staring in wonder at the joys of nature. The weather held up, and we both got some sun. we left early, after a few hours of excursion to go back home, where we fell into 10 minute naps, followed by…not napping. I didn’t want this weekend to be over. Neither did she. It seems that, although the days are lengthening with the approachment of this beautiful spring, the time is not taking as long as it should. Unless it’s during the week, when it’s taking too long. It’s a mix, an unbalanced load that I am unhappy with. But if that’s the sole cause for my unhappiness these days, I really have nothing to complain about, do I? I can live with the onward marching of time, knowing its bringing me closer to a hopeful reality that my dreams brought me last night. A month and a 2/3 down….a hopeful dream-real future to come. I think we shared the same fast forward in the car, but maybe not, when her eyes watered (it must have been the wind) and my left eye let loose a single tear when she wasn’t looking. She didn’t see it, didn’t catch it…and when she said something, it was full of maybes and ambiguity…and she didn’t ask. The image in my head was not faded, I saw it as clear as glass…as clear as a mountain brook on a cliff top, overlooking the water, ready to fly, and it was brought to life by my nocturnal subconscious. The world is going to bear witness to this…as mother nature herself has shown, time and time again her blessing. It’s like the sound of the wind through the trees is it’s own chant, a drumbeat of hope in the background of every lingering, rapid heartbeat

”it was all for this…you had to go through that to find this, or you wouldn’t have been ready. We told you all along, wait…trust…know…now you’re listening…and now you are where you’re supposed to be”

“You are the only exception, and I’m on my way to believing…”

And the new reality is simple – first steps, like a brand new, purple toothbrush, nestled close to mine in an unlikely resting place, after the announcement that it was staying, and the welcoming introduction to the blue one, which is mine which will take up careful residence 45 minutes away for weeknight excursions where driving away towards home is no home at all, and I fall into a new resting place weekly next to the real of angelic dreams.

And we took the best picture together ever, that I forgot to get permission to post (I mean really, I’ve never even called her by name, here… And her name is beautiful) standing on the top of the pier, which reminded my vaguely of that top of the world feeling when you know you’re safe… Like that momentary fragment of my childhood – that feeling returned and added to the beauty of what was… And I can’t get enough.