|oystershell|

ROMANCE

there is nothing more romantic than waking up next to your boyfriend, slowly sliding your underwear off, and...

checking it for discharge together.

HOME

sometimes life sneaks up on you.  change comes creeping around the corner in a big way, and somehow you completely miss it.  until it's sprung and atop you on the ground.  sometimes life doesn't give you a chance to think. 

i am moving in 4 weeks.  i'm not certain where.  but somewhere.  somewhere here in town.  somewhere on the east side.  that's about as detailed as it gets for now.  i don't even know if i'll be renting a room or getting my own place.  i just know that i'm moving.  in 4 weeks.  my rent is too high, my room is too small, and so i am moving.  there was no well though out plan.  there was some consideration, but little warning.  i just kind of gave my notice and figured i'd make up the rest as i went along.  and so... i'm making it up as i go along.

i'm changing jobs, too.  i' not positive, but fairly secure that this decision was made the same day i decided to move.  i interviewed.  evidently, i nailed said interview.  apparently, i'll be offered a job after the pre-requisite second interview.  decidedly so, so i'm told.  less creative freedom, less control, less private office more bottom of the totem pole.  i will no longer be the manager of a company.  i will no longer be running myself into the ground running a company at the age of 25.  i will miss this more than i can ever articulate.  what i will not miss is living pay check to pay check.  what i will not miss is no vacation pay.  what i will not miss is no medical benfits.  when life jumps out of the bushes and tackles you with a 90% salary increase, i think you just have to submit.  even if this means being less of the person you became.  even if this means you don't get to work your own hours and make big decisions.  because it also means you can afford to pay the rent wherever you choose, wherever that ends up being. 

sometimes life sneaks up on you.  on long car rides and ferry boats, in coffee shops and water towers, in heated arguments and hot tubs.  in knowing where to rest your head.  in knowing where to rest your hands, whether someone's looking or not.  when your father keeps calling your boyfriend by your last boyfriend's name.  when it makes you a little sad and sentimental.  when it makes you miss him a little bit more than you're willing to admit.

but you find yourself sitting outside, across from a small park, on a beautiful day.  and you catch yourself looking across a table, when something strange occurs. 

sometimes love sneaks up on you.  and it's not in sentiments or arguments or bedrooms or vacations.  it's not in any of the places you look for it.  it's just been sitting across the table, feeling like home.  feeling like home. 

this weekend was paramount.  my father and ursula drove up.  and we ate out, and ventured to new places, and hiked and got lost and drove in circles.  and we had two meals with the boyfriend.  and we finally had conversations we'd never had before.  and when the weekend was over, and my father stopped calling him ryan, he said, "josh, i really like garth.  he's a good guy.  he really is."  he really is. 

driving down mississippi street toward lloyd center, with the willamette and downtown in full view, it became suddenly so clear - portland is my home.  not just the place that i live.  it's my home.  and sitting at lunch today, love became suddenly so clear - he feels like home.

sometimes love sneaks up on you.  and although it's never been hiding in any of the places you expect it to be, you accept it for what it is, and love it all the same.

SEATTLE

heading out for a weekend in seattle in a few hours.  many stories to tell when i return.  the first of which may or may not be something like love.

SWEPT

four days feels like forever when you catch yourself saying things like, "he's too nice."  i have rarely been afraid to admit that i am both critical and a complainer.  lately, though, i've been coming up short in both arenas.  i have had little to complain about.  i cannot complain about the guy who invites both me and my dog to sleep in his bed.  i cannot complain about the guy who got a prescription for my dog's uti, so i wouldn't have to pay to take her to the vet.  i cannot complain about the guy who goes on long, late night walks with me, as the weather gets wonderfully warm.  i cannot complain about the guy who talks with me about the real stuff, the good stuff, the future stuff.  i cannot complain about the princeton/harvard/ucla graduate/er doctor who says he likes me because i'm so smart.  i cannot complain about the guy who sees all the good in me and in life and in people.  i cannot complain about the guy who is sweeping me off my feet in ways i've never been.  i cannot complain about how i, the stoic unphaseable, have learned and over-practiced the art of gushing. 

and the birds.  the birds are here.  i've never lived far enough north that the birds actually migrate for winter.  so it's a beautiful thing to see them suddenly reappear.  to see shorts and sunglasses and football in the streets.  to see smiles.  to see myself smiling like a fool.  to see the guy smiling like a fool.  sitting together in our coffeeshop, watching the art, watching people watch each other, watching each other.  just entirely swept. 

four days feels like forever.  he saw a waffle house and thought of me.