Six Months, One Week and Two Days

That’s how long I’ve had with the boy. It doesn’t—as Valeska pointed out—feel that long at all. It seems too short and yet when I think about all the things that have happened to me—to my friends—since we started dating it doesn’t seem like nearly long enough.

It’s weird when you think of a relationship in that way—by breaking it down to all the little moments of life that happen around it. I had my ceiling cave in, my best friend lost her mother, four good friends moved, another friend won a starring role in two separate plays, I worked one of my longest story jobs ever, had two friends get accepted to grad school and another set of friends make plans to move away. It’s a lot of things to have happen against the backdrop of falling for this guy--this sweet, funny, smart, talented guy.

We spent the actual day half hanging out—half not. I worked out and read Jane Austen at home while he spent it writing a new script for this idea that he might be getting a grant for. We’re both really good at just letting the other run off for long periods of time with no thought at all. But Samuel and I did meet up for a film (‘Over the Hedge’ because he had a screening) and grabbed food before heading back to my place to just be all couply. We geeked out to “Grey’s Anatomy” and pick up—nothing really special done but still special to us.

Which is how I think how we work best—we build our relationship around all the other real things in our lives. Our very separate lives. Nothing is shoved aside or traded away for some ideal or way that things are supposed to be. We don’t make ourselves into something we’re not—or can’t—be. This makes me believe that we see each other for all the things that make us who we were before we met then for all the things we might want each other to be for our relationship.

It is amazing that it took us just six months to see each other to get to this place. Especially with all the other distractions.