Heady beginnings

are a weakness.

Loaded pauses, hypnotizing and consuming conversations— but about what, I don’t remember because what I’m left with is how I feel, which is simply great.

The newborn teenager that is potential love is a beautiful beast.  Its insistent and unignorable presence is such a flood of feel-good that all energies revolve around It.

I agree to help him out with an art project.  I’d said five? words over the course of a year to him before that night.  Project tasking goes well; the chat that follows, even better.  There’s something that we see and feel in the other; a significant something where four hours pass like twenty minutes.  Then the almost-nauseating nerves(!) that strike before I call him, just because I want to hear his voice.  I’m nervous because there’s no practical reason to call, nowhere to go after, “Hey…”

But he makes it so easy.
“Hey…I can hear the smile in his voice, which makes me smile.  I was wondering when you’d call…”

And the only awkwardness is the bit I created in my head.

When I next talk to him it’s in person and before I know it, we’re on the floor of a gallery, fucking.

It’s amazing the number of firsts that so quickly and effortlessly happen with this new, fascinating stranger.   Before two weeks pass, I realize how many ‘I would nevers’ have occurred.  It’s exciting and it’s so damn fun.

The ordinary becomes extraordinary and the hitherto unfamiliar, forever memorable.

A different beginning, another time: I’m so caught up in thoroughly romantic feelings that when I open a ring box, expecting jewelry and see instead, a single perfect-in-its-imperfection delicate coil shell, my heart immediately goes, “Aww…”  Then when I unwrap an even more delicate coil of paper with four simple words and a question mark, of course I whisper, “Yes.”

I’m young, naïve, and utterly in love.

Recently, a friend observes that I write a lot about endings.
Yes, I do.
I learn the most from endings as they’re so varied and often a mindfuck— but wow, do I learn my limits.
But I get his point.
Why not include the priceless, unique and intoxicating pure awesomeness that starts every good love story?
Without that heady start, we just don’t fall so hard.

And falling is…everything.





is a thing.
As well as a known acronym?

This one was introduced by way of a complete stranger to me but someone BF knew.  We’re sitting, having drinks at a regular bar after hanging out for a few weeks.  BF and dude are talking; I’m quasi-listening but mostly zombied to the TV screen (a glowing monitor entrances and renders me a deaf-mute) when I hear, “So…is she your girlfriend?”

Erm…awkward, long silence as he and I look at each other, eyes wide open question marks.

“Oh…right, y’all haven’t had the RDT yet.  Hehe.”

Whatever that is, okay, guess not.

But on the way home, I remember the acronym comment and curious minds want to know.

Me: What does RTF or RTD or whatever dude said stand for?
BF: You mean RDT?”
Me: Um, sure.
BF: Relationship Defining Talk.
Me: Wow, people really call it that?  I meant it’s a for real acronym?
BF: Yep, you’re probably the only person who doesn’t know what that stands for.
Me: Hmm….seriously?  I’m skeptical.  I feel that it’s not that I’m clueless in the dating realm but that my guy hangs out with some endearing but seriously geeky types.  Also, he really likes acronyms.  And lists.  I’m pretty sure he makes shit up on the daily just to mess with me.  Our text history is 80% ‘What does that meeeeean?’ from me and chronologized bullet points from him.  Ok, so are we supposed to have that?
BF: I guess so.  I mean I knew it’d be a talk we’d have soon but I didn’t intend it to be today.
Me: You can call me your girlfriend (insert smirky grin).

The truth is we both know we’re BF/GF.  Since the first night he spent in my bed, we haven’t spent a night apart.  But I do understand and agree with naming it, putting it out in the open where there’s a witness to the thought in our heads.

Clarification helps.
And It’s not real unless you share it.

The RDT is easy because what I’m pondering more is…I think I love him.