"So, what's going on?" I hear you cry.
I'm not prepared to share everything just yet. There are some timing issues that need to be worked out. Those of you who already know, know. (And that's probably most of you, although with you lurkers out there, I'm not sure exactly.) But, I can tell you this: I have a boyfriend.
Yes, indeedy my friends. After years and years of singlehood, I have managed to snag a man that I like and who likes me in return. It's pretty frickin' sweet. He's kind, and funny, and smart, and slack and simple and very casual. He is not in the rat race, but he is a good, good person. And the best thing about him is that he comes with a narrative. I love narratives. So sit down and get ready for a story.
I met him 10 years ago (yes, 10) at the Pirate Hostel in St. Augustine, FL. I had taken a little solo jaunt down the southeastern coast, from Wilmington, NC to St. Augustine by way of Myrtle Beach, Charleston, Savannah, and Jeckyl Island. (Yeah, it was a good trip.) I stuck to two-lane roads and stayed in campgrounds and hostels wherever possible -- including the sweetest hostel ever in St. Augustine. (Seriously, if you're ever there, stay at the Pirate Hostel. It's more like a hotel and there's a free pancake breakfast every morning.)
So, while I'm there, I chat with all the other visitors. We all have breakfast; we head out to the roof. And one boy there is really cute. I've got plans to go to the beach with some German girls, so I need to slather on the sunblock. I almost just left and never looked back, but then I asked him to do up my back. Yeaaaaah, baby. Anyway, I get his number and address in Orlando. And then I went about the rest of my trip.
The next day, I make my way across the state to Gainesville to visit my college friend J. (Although off the all-coastal route I was on, visiting her was always a part of the plan.) J & I talk and I decide to call this boy, and then visit him in Orlando. So, I take a whirlwind trip back across and down to Orlando before driving back to Durham.
He and I email for many, many months. It's 10 years ago, though, and we were both far less mature than we are now. He had an ego and a self-importance that got in my way, and I was just about as high-strung and high-maintence (who thinks she's low-maintenance) as they come. So, the emails got fewer and father between, and we eventually lost contact.
Fast-forward to last Ocotber when I get a friend request on Facebook from him. (Here's where our accounts differ: he claims I sent him a request, but it would have been three years ago when I first got on Facebook. And even then, if I'd friended him, it wouldn't have given me the option to accept. He probably would have just shown up in my list of 250+ friends and I never would have noticed.) But I'm all, "Hey! What's up?"
Turns out, he was in Eugene while I was in Portland, and neither one of us had a clue. He had since moved to Colorado, and we start phoning, sharing our life's ups and downs. He was staying with some cousins and getting tired of the family drama. You can all look back to October and see where I was at, but it certainly wasn't such a great mental/emotional place either.
He is a truck driver by trade, and has been about everywhere except the Northern California coast. You can't take trucks on most of Highway 1, but he really wanted to see it. So, I agreed that he could come visit and we'd do some tourist stuff; there's a lot of it that I haven't gotten to yet. After some set-backs on his end, he showed up over spring break, stopping by on his way back to Oregon to live.
Now, I knew there was a chance that we would reaquaint ourselves, but I wasn't promising anyone anything (including myself). It'd been 10 years and some phone calls do not a relationship make. But wouldn't you know it: he's still cute and he can crack me up like nobody's business. We stayed up until 3am one morning because we couldn't stop laughing. Even then, though, I wasn't expecting anything much long-term.
He left. He called me that afternoon. And then twice the next day. And just about every night since then. Note: he calls me. I do not have to call him. (Dad would be so happy.) He was in Newark, CA on Saturday, so I drove up and picked him up and we headed over to San Francisco for the day. We spend the night in the hostel, too. We stayed there just because we're the sort of people who do that, but it was still romantic seeing as we met in a hostel.
Yes, to those of you who know the other reason why I'm happy, things might get complicated in a few months, but it's not worth walking away from a good thing. I've got a second chance now; I'm going to take it. And no one is doing drive-bys of the china patters at the Belk's.
This is the (very) long way of telling you not to worry. I'm not writing because I'm too busy being happy.
