12 Mar

My hair is dripping water and has formed a dark, wet spot on the back of my t-shirt. But it’s not my t-shirt. It is Daniel’s, and has been for the past year or so that I’ve been wearing it. I plan to keep it forever, and he’s okay with that. I like it this way. We’re comfortable with each other, and I’m comfortable wearing his old clothes. All the Romantic Firsts are exciting and wonderful, but I’ve always looked forward to loving someone so much that we don’t have to hold hands everywhere we go. I’m not even sure that’s a thing, but the image has been with me for a long time. We’ll grab lunch at Panda Express, or something, and I’ll eat as much as I want without feeling weird about it, and then we’ll walk around the mall and not even worry about the way we look to each other. And if we want to see a movie, we’ll just see a movie, and I don’t have to pretend that I want to see whatever he wants to see, because if I want to watch Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One again, we can watch it and I don’t even have to feel bad. And when we’re sitting in the dark theater, not six inches apart, I can enjoy every millisecond of the movie without wondering if he’s ever going to hold my hand. Life with Daniel is pretty awesome.



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