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02 november 2003
While going through of videotapes a few nights ago I found one of Dylan and I in his car listening to the Smiths and driving through suburban Minnesota. It was too painful to watch. Fast forward to... talking to him last night. About my new romance. And there's really such a change in me from a month and a half ago. And it was so nice to talk to him again, really *talk*, have this exchange of emotions and ideas and smart remarks only to be apologized for seconds later. (I sometimes think about how he'd sneak into my room in the early morning before the sun had come all the way up and his feet would be freezing and give me chills.) Things are good with us, and that's really the best I can ask for. Those who are still finding out about this new (old?) boy and I are left in disbelief and various scrambled versions of "Are you joking?", but alas: I am not joking. I am really this happy and that's really the reason why. Seven hundred and thirty days, approximately, can do a lot to a girl's temperment and perspective. My story is no different. |
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