The Beginning....

10/2/07

Two Back Flats

The alarm clock flashes 5:55 a.m. I don't hear it, but I feel the shake in his stretch as he stirs out of bed. I know I have a few hours left to sleep because the room is still dark and moist but I sit up as he quietly gets dressed. I lean my body against the pillows and he looks up and meets my face. I smile. I still smile. He comes over to me and I hold his face. His scruff is turning into a beard again as the cold comes. And in a thousand years I never would have thought I would love it.

And as his footsteps fade down the steps and I hear him say "I love you" again that morning, I move to the middle of the bed and melt into the feathers of the blankets and pillows. I yawn and stretch my arms behind my head and extend my toes so I'm wrapped completely in the heat he's left on his side. I lay and I think about everything. How tired he must be, how tired I am, how he put the armoir in the bathroom like I had suggested, if the steam will warp the wood.

I think about how this weekend, we combined everything we have. And he moved in. How after 4 years, this is the most amount of stuff we've ever had. How my taste in decorating is still the same but has somehow managed to welcome what he has brought with him. How I see his eye transform to appreciate what I love. He brings home antique tins to place on the mantel.

I lay there and I run my fingers through my hair until I reach my dread lock in the back. I think about how I came home from the salon and presented my new addition. He rushed over from the kitchen to take a closer look. "That's so hot" he said as he touched it and asked a million questions. "I want dread locks" he said as he pulled his hair up so it was standing on top of his head. "Your mother will kill you, and then she'll kill me." He stops and makes a face as if I'm wrong. "Yea she will." he agrees and laughs. And I love that we're adults living and furnishing and antiquing together, but we still worry what our parents will think about our choices.

I think of dread locks. Period. As we moved in this weekend, Toni sat on his mother's rocking chair in our kitchen as I washed the dishes. She was rocking, sitting cross legged and drinking water out of a vase.

"Did you ever think a year ago today, that you would be living such a bohemian lifestyle?" she asks me. "Bohemian." I repeat and chuckle. "Well, you've been wearing the same dress for two days and you just got back from the Natural Foods Expo." I crack up and push my bangs away with the back of my wrist.

Before Greg and I decided to not rent out the 3rd bedroom, but convert the attic bedroom into a studio, we had briefly talked about Toni moving in. It wasn't until she had said 3 smokers in the house would drive her crazy that we nixed that idea. We had laid in bed talking and he said "Do you realize that if Toni moved in, there would never be a quiet moment? Jack would be over making dinner, Redds would be here smoking, Kelsey would be here. This would become where everyone converged." I stopped and agreed then smiled. "Do you realize that it's amazing that we have that?" That when I get home I have trinkets in the mailbox from friends walking by. Alicia relays messages "Mel stopped by to see if you wanted to grab a beer. Toni stopped by to borrow shoes. Jack stopped by for his Cd. Jason is coming to hang out after you close the bar." They step over 8 guitars to sit on the couch and 4 of them know how to play.

So, I lay in the twilight and think of how the studio with adjoined desks against the exposed brick will be ready just in time for me to make our Christmas cards. How we'll have our own space to create just like we've always talked about. I think of how he can make anything with his hands and knows just what color I'll like. I think of how in our pictures of when we met, we looked so damn young. He gave up baseball caps for gel in his hair. I gave up chandelier earrings for pearls and diamonds. He gave up suits for his old t-shirts. I gave up heels for release.

We know who our old friends are. We love them because they have been there for years. We love them because they knew us when we were wearing baseball caps or cashmere. They know us now even though Juicy purses have been swapped with Whole Foods shopping bags. They can laugh at us. Because they are family and they've known Greg and Jasika since we were us. They know all the ideas we've had and what we dressed up as for Halloween when we were 6 or 16. We love our new friends for knowing how we play guitars or board games. We love them for letting us dye their hair pink and cut off their Mohawks because they know we need the practice. We love them for teaching us how to disc golf or jump off of cliffs. We love them for keeping us company while we wash dishes and for knowing that we wore this dress yesterday.

But as I laid in his heat, I loved him the most. For watching me change from wearing my hair curly to straight to blue to dreaded. I loved him for letting me change and change with him. For knowing I would love him whether he changed or not. I love him for combining his things with mine and calling it home. I love him for loving me either way like a family, like a friend.