The Boy to Me
Sent: August 20th, 2008 @ 5:49pm
“You’re so cute. I’ll call you soon”

The Boy to Me
Sent: August 21, 2008 @ 4:06am
“Baby! (Pokes you in the shoulder) I hate to wake you (gives you a little wink) I wanted to tell you something (smile)… I just Love the shit out of you. ”

Seriously… So damn cute. I got that last one when I woke up in the morning. *sigh*

So I guess when the topic of this parent-purchased home came up between Garnier and the boy, the boy said, hey, if you want a roommate to help with expenses or anything, you can always hit me up. My heart sank a little bit, because I was hoping that things between us, later on down the road of course, would mean that WE could be living together… without other people.

*Insert Sad Panda*

But I know even thinking about it could mean potential disaster. I don’t want to push us any further into serious than we’re both ready for. I think about it, however, because we both are getting older, and we’ve both made our mistakes… and I’m getting to the point in my life where I’m wondering if I ever want to have kids.

Last night, via text message, we had an interested conversation regarding this very subject. He’s been actively looking into which colleges to consider for a Master’s program. I did some work, but knew that it wasn’t something I needed to stress myself about right now.

Although I did make up my mind. The second I’ve graduated, the search for a new job will ensue. And the packing will also begin. And I’m moving. I’m not going to stay in his hellhole anymore. I’m not going to commute to this horrid job anymore. I’m going to get the hell away from all of the things that make me miserable in life.

So he started looking into Chico State. He started looking into housing costs in the Chico area. He said I’d need a roommate, but that the cost was significantly less than in the Humbolt area. I told him I hate roommates, and there was probably one person I’d consider living with. He said, “I thought about that too. We’ll need to sit down and talk about that at some point.”

I guess I couldn’t imagine that he would think about those things. Why? I don’t know. I just think I’m one of those irrational girls who think that each guy she falls in love with will be her “knight” and everything will go perfectly. I know better, which is why I haven’t made any rash decisions regarding our current living situation. I did tell him that I didn’t want to be so far from him all the time. He seemed to agree with me.

We’re also working on figuring out our “anniversary” date. We don’t really have one right now. It’s all so very weird to me, to not have A date to use or reference. So, this weekend we might figure that out. Ahh… to be in love again… in a sappy cheesy weird sorta way, it really is the best thing ever.

Thursday I wanted to leave work early, get a head start on my weekend. I knew I was going to spend the majority of it with the boy, and that made me giddy like a kid. On the way home, I stopped by the fruit stand and picked up a few pounds of peaches. They’re the boy’s favorite fruit.

We texted once I got home, and while I was tempted to use the peaches as a means to lure him to my place half a day earlier, I figured it might be a cheap ploy. So when he thought of coming up Thursday night instead of Friday, I was thrilled.

Thursday night we drove through the Buttes and stopped along a levee to sit and look at the stars. I’ve seen the Milky Way before, but out there, there are no lights, few cars, and endless sky. When it got too cold for the both of us we drove home, with the windows open and the heater cranked up. Sleeping that night was good.

My sleep schedule is pretty much the same whether I’m in school or not, so at roughly 8am on Friday, I was wide awake and unable to go back to sleep. I snuck out of bed to feed the cat and pick up a little bit while the boy was sleeping. After a few hours I went in to harass him, as I didn’t want to waste the day. I had big plans! He woke up and made these awesome omletes for the both of us. Very yum. I played some Guitar Hero III (now that I have a fully functional and working GH Guitar), and we packed to head up into the mountains for some “get away” time.

I took the scenic route, because it really is that much prettier, and while out in the lovely town of Linda (capital of Meth-head, California), I drove by childhood homes to show the boy. I told him stories about different houses, and what we used to do when running around being kids. The people. The relationships we had with each other. Very nostalgic. Then we drove up into the mountains, and found ourselves in Nevada City. We wandered around, having arrived just after the parade had finished (yay! no crowds!), and I went on a mission. The mission was to find the truffles. The truffles I ALWAYS have when I go to Nevada City. This time it was to share the truffley goodness with the boy.

Now, I must tell you about these truffles. First, they are HUGE. They’re massive truffles. I mean, I’ve paid a lot of money for chocolate before, and gotten a far smaller piece of heaven than what you get when you buy a truffle from Degroot’s Truffles. And OMFG! I can’t even begin to explain the goodness of them. They. are. amazing! And the boy loved the two he chose. We might spend some weekends out there, now that he knows it exists.

After Nevada City, we headed to Bridge Port, a local river-y area for swimming and all-around goodness. except, there was no river. There was NO water in the RIVER! But there were a ton of people wading in the mud. We left, went home. Went to Lindsey and Josiah’s, much to his chagrin, and he had fun. He didn’t want to be there all night, but we didn’t find ourselves home until close to 1am. Ha!

Saturday I decided that I didn’t like my couch, and thus wanted to kick it with my toe. Too bad the couch won and my toe was much worse for the wear. After bandaging the poor thing up, shoving it into a shoe, we hopped on his bike and headed to Davis to watch the UFC fight.

I’m not much of a fight fan, but I was excited to see the Griffon vs. Rampage fight. EX.CI.TED! And it was worth it. It was loads of fun.

Sunday we lounged. We got coffee and each of us read our own book. I caught him staring a few times, which made me smile. Wandered the Arden Fair Mall in Sacramento, and just did… stuff. Normal, everyday stuff that we almost never get to do. Some swimming, more lounging, and eventually home.

The second he turned to leave, I felt sadness. It’s bad enough I don’t get to see him very often, but the end to a wonderful weekend meant sleeping alone.

I also don’t often get to see the boy for more than a day and a half at a time. It just so happens that the distance, gas prices and the ever poorness of a student keeps us from being able to go through the “spend every waking minute together” phase. Most of the time this is okay, but sometimes… sometimes this is very trying. So when the boy offered to drive up to come see me after I had spend the previous day with him, I was very excited. That’s nearly 2 days together (with a work “break” in between)! This was truly a momentous event!

But when he arrived, he was irritated. Angry even. Roommate issues that have been perpetuating over time, and only now does he realize that a lot of those irritations that he’s let slide, are really NOT okay… in anyone’s book. With the introduction of a 3rd person into the household, he’s suddenly starting to realize that roommate #1 takes an awful lot of liberties with other people’s things. Mainly, the boy had his expensive motorcycle riding glasses taken. This did not set the tone for the rest of the night.

I was excited to have him over, but once he had his opportunity to vent, he started getting restless. He wanted to go out. He wanted to go DO something. I was a willing participant, but in this hellhole, there’s not a whole lot available to do in the middle of the week. Instead he got up, made himself some dinner, while I fiddle around with correcting the Elton John songs I downloaded that were mislabeled.

He didn’t sleep well, so when I left this morning for work, I left him there to try to rest some more.

I wish I knew what to do. Or what to say, in situations like that. I guess the only thing I can do is not get upset by the fact that he wasn’t the doting boyfriend he can be, and know that there will often be days just like this. If he can forgive me for my moods (which are often angry ones), I should be able to forget his (which are more depressed).

So I just won’t ask him to stay.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And when I heard a motorcycle in the silence of the night, but loud enough for me to hear, I hoped it was him coming back. It wasn’t, and a little part of me is disappointed by my hope of romanticism that isn’t there… and might never be.

Who’s the pathetic one now?