01/15/2014

there’s a candle in my apartment that smells like joe. in the second i blow it out before the smoke wafts to my face, i am bombarded with memories of snow, waking up with my face buried in joe’s chest, colorado. i can remember all the feelings. i miss the butterflies, i miss the excitement, i miss laughing in his car.

twenty five is weird. i can’t say it’s been a bad first months. i’ve upgraded my life a lot. gym membership, yoga classes, a new place and a fresh outlook.

there’s bryce and we’re dating and i’m supposed to fly out to durango with him next month to meet his mom and ski. i like bryce, he’s wonderful and kind and organized and so practical. he doesn’t spend time thinking existentially. he is grounded and this is what i need right now. he values me a lot sexually and i think he thinks he can mold that into love. he won’t be able to do it and he’ll find out eventually that i am too brash and too loud and too open and too wild for him.

i want the butterflies. i want the anticipation.

we do some really cool stuff. canoeing, camping, boat tours, social events, plays, shows. we cook delicious food and drink a ton of wine and the sex has improved a lot. he is perfect and calm and patient with me when i talk endlessly about the weather. we don’t have much in common other than the things we like to do and he keeps telling me that it doesn’t matter, that "we will create memories to have in common" and that sounds beautiful and it makes sense, but does it?

when i’m away from him and i let my mind wander, i don’t see myself with him through the summer. when i’m with him and it’s just the two of us and we’re giggling and playing around i think otherwise. it’s the slowest four or so months i’ve ever spent with anyone. "i love you" is often on the tip of my tongue and i can’t wipe the smile off my face, but i don’t know.

i really don’t know.

25 25 25 25 25. yikes.