Your love is king...crown you with my heart

I love him more than yesterday...but not as much as I'm going to love him tomorrow....

Am I living in some corny romantic comedy? Maybe. But I'm insanely happy and that's all that matters. A shit ton of nonsense could come raining down at me at work, yet I've got a stupid grin on my face. I've never felt this way for this long...at times, it's a little scary.

There are deep, dark moments that cloud my brain like an evil shadow.

"How long before you fuck it up? How long before you say the wrong thing? Hurt his feelings? Or start noticing other guys and try to sleep with them? How long before you remember what it's like to hold a grudge? How long before you go back to letting your soul fester?"

It's as if my old life...my "old life" that isn't really that old, from about a few months ago, will resurface somehow. But I've grown haven't I? I've given that up? I'm....cured? I've moved past meaningless sex.

This isn't like being an addict. Right? Like, there's no relapse...I won't go back to craving being miserable, alone and empty, will I?

One can only hope.

I mean, I had fun back then and I don't regret much...but anything before I started feeling this grounded seems like a nightmare. A bad dream. Very, very bad dream.

I'm positive I know what I want. And I'll fight to keep it.

***

We had an intense talk the other day about sex, decisions and the future...

The talk continued and it even spilled into last night, as I was dropping him off from karaoke. We're on the same page about contraception and how we want the future to play out. I told him no babies until I'm married, which he agreed with 100 percent. We have so much other stuff to worry about before that. Having children isn't even an option right now. I'm having too much fun just being with him. He reassured me that I can talk to him about anything and he's always willing to hear me out. We're wrapped up in the lovey-dovey mushiness yes, but we're clear-headed enough to make rational choices and know what's in our best interest at the moment.

Gah, he's wonderful. And he's all mine.

Let's go all the way tonight: no regrets, just love

More milestones.

Third base achieved both on Tuesday and Thursday. He went first and I took the second night. It's weird, when I don't really fully care about a guy or I'm just treating him like a piece of meat, I don't mind divulging every single, naughty detail. But I've noticed when I have real feelings for a guy, I feel the need to be less descriptive. I feel almost...shy? I'm a little protective and slightly embarrassed to say anything more about our time in the front seat of his Corvette. I will say that Jose is a good listener (hah!), eager and he has uhm....the right size equipment to get the job done. As I told him on Thursday, a particularly sweaty encounter, I feel he and I are going to have ourselves a very, verrrry good time.

I tried not to over-think about us finally having sex. So when it happened all of a sudden this past Saturday, both of us were pleasantly surprised. We hadn't anguished over it too much, though I was starting to go a little sex stir-crazy. Jose had been incredibly restrained about the whole thing. Even when we had the house all to ourselves, he hesitated. He kept making excuses even he knew sounded dumb. "But-but your hair! And your makeup...I don't wanna mess that up..." he stammers but I'm already playing with the buttons of his shirt. He's sooo adorable. I love how nervous I make him. He says he didn't bring any condoms. I tell him I have some in my night stand. He worries my mom will come home any minute. I reply that she won't be home for hours. He shakes his head and avoids eye contact, "No babe..." he starts but I look up at him and smile, "You don't want to anymore?" I flirt. He blushes and says of course he does, all the time. "Well?" I counter and gesture at the bedroom. I hate having to be such so pushy, but I'm tired of waiting and now the need and desire has become too much. He's run out of excuses and he knows it. Jose smiles, "Okay."

It was a bit of an ambush, yes...but worth it.

Our first time was good. Always room for improvement and I know that every time after that will be better than the last. It was sweaty, nervous, a little clumsy but sweet. He had confessed it had been almost double-digit years since he had been with a girl, but wouldn't divulge any more details. I was frank when I told him it had NOT been that long for me. I also wasn't going to describe anything further.

We finished. Got dressed and high-fived each other on the drive to our friend Gretel's graduation party. We finally had sex and it felt great. We stepped into that party a more grown-up couple. We were closer than ever. As he put it, "We made love." That's some real shit right there....

He picked up his friend Johnny's guitar and played "Jealous Guy" by John Lennon for me:

He said he'll learn The Beatles "And I Love Her" on guitar so he can play it for me :D

A few things he has said that night at the party that should scare me but don't....

* He asked me if I've thought about what our future is going to look like. When I kinda balked at giving a straight answer, he rescued me by teasing that I probably already had our kids names picked out. I started laughing and he was all, "Just tell me their names! What are their names?!" I jokingly brought it up again and I gave him a real answer. I told him that for a long time I've like the name Layla Marie for a girl... or Gregory Patrick if it's a boy. He said he liked those names. No hesitation. No fear in his eyes.

* I told him I have a high threshold for pain and he asked if I could carry triplets. I didn't even know what to say and made a crack about my wide birthing hips. He smiled and reminded me that his mom had two sets of twins and that his great grandma pushed out quadruplets. Yikes.

* I was blathering something about my hair and how I had styled it for the party. Jose touches my ponytail and  remarks, "If we ever get married, you should have your hair in a ponytail on our wedding day. Like the day I met you." I raise an eyebrow and make sure he's not drunk. Nope. Sober. "So no up-do? Not worn down or in curls or waves?" I ask with amusement in my eyes. He shakes his head, "Nope. Ponytail or nothing."

* I remark that I've only ever had my own room ONCE in my entire life, when I lived with roommates in an apartment during college. He jokes that when he and I move in together, I'll make him sleep on the couch just so I can have my own room. I kiss him and tell him I'd never kick him out.

Moving in together? Marriage? Kids? Even I was choking on my drink. But only slightly. Any other time, I might be running for the hills or calling this guy a stalker. But where we're at now, it doesn't seem like a pipe dream or some far-off fantasy. It doesn't sound far-fetched. It's the honeymoon phase and everything is just washed in prettiness and rainbows. How serious can you really take it? How much is just head over heels in love talk?

How soon could you really know?

Placed inside, safe & sound. Shapes & colors are all I see

Truly, truly, truly....this is so addicting...

I feel like singing. All the time. Silly right?

My gut reaction is to scream at the top of my lungs.
From happiness.
For happiness.
Because of happiness.

I want to belt out that I am ridiculously happy. I've had a smile plastered on my face for days and days.

Throw my arms up into the air. Go to the top of my building at work and shout it from the roof.

"I'M IN LOVE! I'M IN LOVE! I'M FUCKING IN LOVE!!!!"

It happened Saturday. Not how I pictured it would happen. In fact, I really hadn't even thought that far ahead, but I figured I couldn't get past Christmas, much less New Year's Eve without saying it.

My company's holiday party was fun and Jose got to meet the whole cast of characters that make up my work life. Everyone kept commenting that we made a cute couple and my boss even told me that he thought Jose and I make a nice match. I was beaming.

We met up with my best friend Lauren, her friend Jonathan and Jose's best friend Johnny at a whiskey bar around the corner. My other gal pals joined and a few of my work friends filtered through as well. It was a great night and I got to see Jose shit-faced for the first time. Most of the time, he's quiet and tends to let everyone else have the spotlight. On Saturday night, he was the opposite. He was talkative, giddy and laughing a bunch. He was also PDA crazy and spent a large portion of the night playing with my hair and kissing me shamelessly in front of my friends. At one point, we even convinced him to kiss Johnny hahaha. I didn't get a video of the infamous smooch but I did get some of Jose taking a shot he didn't want:

Anyway, as it was nearing 1 am, we left the bar to grab food and were met with rain showers. The streets were slick and the boys were slip sliding their drunken selves across the Pasadena sidewalks. The bouncers and a couple of the patrons outside were chuckling as I tried to wrangle my boyfriend and his equally drunk best friend. Jose wraps an arm around my shoulder and hangs on as I steer him towards the King Taco. He smiles and mumbles loud enough so only I can hear, "Babe....I love you!" I'm instantly stunned. This is drunk talk. This doesn't mean anything. He won't remember in the morning. I should have thought of something more diplomatic to say but I just blurted it out, almost out of reflex: "I love you too!" I say quickly and hope I don't sound like I'm lying.

Because I'm not lying. If I didn't feel it, my instinct should have been to say something like "I care about you too" or "Thank you" (wait, that's kinda mean...glad I didn't say it haha!)

I wrestled with the idea of being in love with Jose for the rest of the night. As my friends chomped down on tacos, I thought about it. As I hobbled with drunken Jose and Johnny to find our cars in the maze-like parking structure, I thought about it. As I drove home with Jose slumped in my passenger side, moaning that he'd never drink again (sure) and lamenting the fact that he had a huge boner...yeah even then I couldn't stop thinking about it. I rubbed his head and told him it'd be okay, that I'd get him home soon. I thought and thought, nervously biting my nails and hoping this stupid rain would let up soon. I hate driving in the rain. But I'll do it for him. Because I want him home safe. Because I care about him deeply. Because....I guess I do love the silly boy. There is no timeline, there is no set "date." We all come to this realization on our own. I suppose Jose's drunken escapade made me come to the conclusion faster. I got a push in the most unlikely way. I love this guy, more than I fully comprehend.

We talked about it the next morning and Jose tells me that indeed he was high on liquid courage but that he meant every word. He loves me and wanted the cat outta the bag finally. I told him I love him too and that I was sure of it. Honest.

My heart is full. He's filled in all the little cracks and then some. I haven't been in love romantically in nearly 3 years. It might seem like we're moving too fast, but I say fuck that.

Jose and I make our own time.