Sleepy November has proven successful so far. I slept 11 hours two different nights last week, and I haven’t touched my homework in 6 days. I’ll return to the grind tomorrow, but for now it’s nice to remain lazy. And sitting in this new, leather computer chair feels so plush and relaxing. After months of excruciating back pain in the former chair, this new one offers comfort, support and solitude as I leisurely surf the web.
I wrecked my car over the weekend between leaving my Dad’s house on the way to Tika’s. Luckily I wasn’t injured, but I’m pretty sure the foe is dead.
It’s ironic how Keegan and I suffered a minor argument earlier that day and then suddenly, something so minute wasn’t even an issue. We arrived in Germantown (North Nashville) and waited nearly an hour for crepes at Red Bicycle. And as we parted ways at home afterwards, I couldn’t help but wonder “When was the last time we had a dispute?” I drove towards Smyrna, rehashing our most recent arguments when it dawned on me: We haven’t argued in months. Not one single time. And this is when I reached that monumental epiphany…could he really be The One?
How does anyone know when they have met The One? I feel so…existential this week. With our three year anniversary around the corner, these are the questions that plague me. But really, who the hell knows.
What I do know for sure is this: I’ve never felt so deeply and authentically loved before. If I could capture this feeling, bottle these emotions and sell them on Etsy, all the girls would want in on it. I’ll never take for granted his priceless, genuine love and affection. (Please bear with me through these corny paragraphs)
It’s the most veritable types of love that go without defending, the type of love that need not constantly brag on social media as an underlying plea for attention. Yes, we post about each other occasionally, but for the most part we consider this relationship sacred and as such, it’s not worth exposing every detail to the world. And again, I recognize the hypocrisy of bragging on my blog, but fuck it. He treats me well, and it’s worth mentioning.
Although the car wreck sucked, in a weird way I’m grateful for the shift in perspective. It wasn’t until this happened that I realized how clouded my usual sunny demeanor had become recently.
Suddenly I’ve returned to guided meditations, The Pocket Book of Stones and jogging before work in the mornings. Granted I’ve only ran three days in a row so far, but it’s a start right? Ultimately, I’m returning to my old self, and it feels great. Sometimes we need a literal bump in the road to slow ourselves down.
My piece of advice for this week? Don’t ever settle for less than what you deserve. Sure it’s cliche, but we could all use the reminder occasionally.