He was all like, “Yeah, I dig this song.” It was Tuesday at The Alibi. He was drinking beer from a can.
I was like, “Yeah, this is the Smiths.”
He was like, “Yeah, totally, you like the Smiths?”
And then pretty much we were set for marriage.
For two weeks we texted each other at least every other day. He texted, “I put too much garlic in my stir fry” and “Sometimes my roommate is a douche.” I texted, “My cat looks cute right now.” We were like big, yawning mouths, the way we were opening up to each other.
The texting led to follows on Instagram, and not three days later he suggested we have a coffee at the same time and place. He even sat at the table next to mine. A guy named Wyatt stopped by to give him some weed, and I was like, whoa, he’s already introducing me to his friends. After Wyatt left, we had a few minutes to ourselves. Mostly he listened to his headphones while I IM-ed with my sister about how he was listening to his headphones and I was IM-ing. The romantic part was when he held out an earbud and said, “Want to hear my band?” I put it in my earhole while the other was in his earhole, and we were sitting there, like, actually connected. I told him he could move in with me if he felt like it.
After living together for a few hours we had our first fight. I wanted to start season three of Mad Men, but he wanted to watch The Walking Dead. He said, “Mad Men is so slow,” and right then I knew how it felt to be run over by a Smart Car. Like it looks like it shouldn’t hurt, but actually it does. Bad. I said, “But The Walking Dead is so loud,” and I could tell by the way he squinted a little that I burned him back. He said sorry by handing me his bag of Sriracha-flavored Lay’s while there were still a few chips left inside.
It’s been almost a day since he moved in, but we still have so much to look forward to, like learning each other’s middle names and meeting each other’s exes. Mine lives in the back bedroom. I hope it doesn’t cause any drama because that is not what I need right now. What I need right now is to enjoy the romance. Soon enough it will be all, “How was your day?” and “How was your day?” and ugh.
I know, I’ll play that Smiths’ song, our song, and when he hears it he’ll remember how we met, and it will all come back to him, how much we have in common. I might even FaceTime him from the other room and flash my tits. If he wants to see them in real life, I won’t let him. That could lead to sex, and I have a rule about waiting 48 hours for sex. My friends say it’s old-fashioned, but in this fast-paced world full of guys who like the bands you like and eat the chips you eat, you need something that helps protect you from Chlamydia.
Still, I went ahead and started our wedding registry at Target because it’s hard not to think about the cool stuff we could get if we got married. Like that shower curtain with a pirate ship on it, so funny.
What I’m trying to say is, I’ve got a good feeling about this guy. Or at least I’ve got a feeling. Or something that feels like it might be a feeling.
Front page image by ezola.