Ten years ago, I got in my car and drove up the street to Tim’s apartment so we could have the “talk.”
A week ago over MLK weekend he had reluctantly (no exaggeration here) told me over the phone that he was interested in me. He was definitely not meaning to be in a relationship, nor did he even want to be in one, but as one paralyzed with love by Cupid’s arrow he had to make his feelings known. That and we had way too many study dates, late night AIM chats and midnight burrito runs to be in the friend zone.
When I got to his apartment, we had a super intense talk about our past relationships. I don’t even know why we felt like we had to say everything that night, but we definitely recreated our own little baggage claim that night. We discussed baggage after baggage, our mouths the never ending conveyor belt chucking out our worst fears and insecurity. At the end of the night we just looked at each other with looks of “(baby) can you handle this?” It was so unromantic, unhot and ungiddy. But what do you do when you see a future with the person in front of you, and beauty even in the both of you? After hours of talking, Tim gave into his exhaustion and said “Let’s go for it.” And had I known the words YOLO, I would’ve yelled it then.
Tim thanks for taking a chance on us and believing in what we could be. I love you and promise I’ll make you cheesy cards again like I used to before we got married (damn you Candy of 10 years ago for making me look bad).