Friday, February 15, 2008
You Used to Sit in the Cube Behind Me
It all started, innocently enough, when I used to sit in the cube behind you. Even though my memories have been enhanced since hearing your side of things, I like to think of those days as you stealing glances of me at my desk or me eagerly awaiting a message from you about the latest in British pop music.
Office flirtations aside, we really began the night I met you on a bench. "Our bench" is how we refer to it now. I came strolling through campus and you were sitting there in your Converse and baseball cap waiting for me. We went to a bar and after walked around downtown San Jose, presumably so we wouldn't have to end the evening. After hours of talking in my living room (I love that you are a natural communicator), long after any other date would have ended, you peeled yourself off my roommate's couch and went home. That night began a string of similarly lengthy (in a wonderful way) dates. We joke about it now but I'm pretty sure it took you something like 14 hours on one of those dates before you worked up the nerve to kiss me.
The thing is we never tired of each other. Never needed our space. I just wanted to be in the same room as you and, likewise, you never seemed to get enough of me.
I spent a lot of time during those first few months waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the first blow out fight, for you to see the real me and decide you didn't like her. But none of those things ever happened.
Parents were met. Vacations taken. Apartment shared. I've loved and continue to love every bit of it.
I love all the little, nonsensical nicknames you give me (*Boo, Confection, Sprite, Jenkins; what do they even mean?). I love that you'll watch MTV reality shows meant for 16-year-olds at two in the morning (Namely, The Hills). I love that you find the need to categorize everything in an adorably O.C.D.-like way ("If you could only get three magazines for the rest of your life, which would you choose?"). I love you.
So why a blog? I suppose it's because I want to pick something to write about, to put out there, and stick with it. The only absolute in my life right now, the one constant I want to stick with is you. Plus, the romantic in me thinks there is enough snark out and not nearly enough sap. I'm hoping like everything else we do this will be a collaboration. This is about my favorite topic: Us.
I used to sit in the cube behind you. Then I didn't. And then we fell in love.
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