French Press Tights

1:30 AM, Sunday morning. A friend of mine sent me a text that said “Amber, is it bad that I want to get married?” He'd been drinking, yes, but he's had a hard time with women lately and I thought i'd throw out some WOMAN KNOWLEDGE on him, as I did this I found myself surprised by what I was saying- this was a topic I hadn't really talked about.

My friend is a hopeless romantic. I know because I dated him a long time ago.

I like talking about love; real love, but... not really the hopeless romance kind, or the kind where you say you love the other person after three dates. I like the love that makes you insane for a minute, then you find yourself in such a bubble of happiness that you don't even have to smile for people to feel what you are feeling, it's just... you. I guess you could say I'm a realist, but in no ways am I not in love with love. I'm just in love with love that lasts, love that doesn't take your breath away to the point you have to say "I love you" immediately. I love the kind that slowly shows you you've been breathing wrong the whole time and now you finally know how.

Let's start with what I know about fun...

I remember when my focus shifted from making sure I was having fun in my relationship, you know the way Stevie Nicks says, “you make lovin' fun,” to ok, next step, bro. I need a ring, then a house, then a baby... “where is this headed?” “why are we still just doing the same thing?” Do not mistake this for allowing yourself to sacrifice things you want [ie marriage] because your partner doesn't want it yet/might never want it. No. I merely mean stop forcing things, stop doing things or feeling things because it's the Social Norm. I remember the moment I realized I didn't have to get married by 23 (sweet, southern upbringing, amiright?) it was revolutionary. I had time! I didn't have to settle, I was allowed to shop around, be selfish, go on terrible dates, and make a couple mistakes, bag a couple terrible men and get through a few more heartbreaks. I think at some point it's healthy to start looking at the “next step” (whatever that might be for you), but it shouldn't take your focus off what you're working towards, which is what you have, a loving partner... and I want that partner to love our life together. I want my love to be fun. Always. Even when it's hard, even when I'm pissed, at least I know I love said person and all the work that has been put into it, has been fun, it's been work, none the less, but always fun and just... happy.

Too much, too soon...

We've all fallen too hard, too fast... I have, I can be the worst. I also have this habit of keeping my mouth closed when I do it. I never throw out the L word unless I feel confident in it, and by that I mean I've literally kept myself up at night thinking about how awful [heh] it is that I want to tell another human I love them.

For me there's the love that happens suddenly and it takes over, suddenly the only fully functioning organ is your heart, and you consider proposing after a week. There's, also, the love that builds. It doesn't mean I don't feel that feeling when they show up at my door, or tell me they can't wait to see me... it means we're both working at making this a real thing. I guess I've never really felt like the first love ever works out... mostly because we set this unrealistic standard for our feelings during those insane and lovely moments we are planning how we will propose to said person. Lets face it that bomb-ass-tastic lovin' feeling we feel for that person won't always be so lovely, it won't always be so in-your-face, and that's the moment I wait for. I love the love that builds, I live for that feeling, I live for the moments you're in bed at 11:00 PM on a Friday night laying on their chest in the dark, eat hot wings together on the couch, or when you yell at them to get you a towel and they tease you by holding it just far enough to make you step out of the shower to get it. Those are the moments that stick out in my head, never the moments I thought I fell in love with said person and had to shout it from the rooftop on day four of hangin'.

Enjoy the moments...

Do you remember the first time you hung out with your partner? How you couldn't wait for that second time? Because all the sudden the hang out session you thought was just a casual thing, left you wanting more? I have a few examples of things that became more without my conscience thought process. Those are the best, the ones I remember. I remember dating a man that lived out of town, we met week one, and he barely text me the next week, but when he did it was funny and cute, just enough to make me wonder. Mid-week he announced he'd be getting a hotel in the city with all his friends again and I should “try and come hang out.” The excitement of wondering what he meant, my mind was restless. The next week he invited again, this time to his apartment. Then there was the moment he announced he was “interested” in me, then there was the moment he said “I miss you” for the first time, etc. Moments. They are so small, but have such an impact. Moments of laughing on a swing in the dark where it's so cold you can't really feel your butt. Moments of falling asleep on a couch only to wake up to someone carrying you to bed. Moments when he introduces you as his girlfriend and your confusion and excitement take over. These are the times I remember, the times I feel the most. Now, lets say someone skips all that, goes straight for the destination without all the fun and stupid pit stops. It's not always about the destination, sometimes we have to enjoy stopping at the Peanut Monument in Who Knows Where, Georgia just as much as finally getting to Orlando, Florida. Yes?

There's my typical Sunday morning ramble.