First: The Boy

So, you all now about P now, of course. Old friend of strangepear from college, grew out his hair and stole my heart at her Memorial Day/housewarming party. Currently the cause of much strife between me and R.

What else is there to say about him? We are madly in love, of course. We spent a good amount of time together the first week in June. Then, the Saturday I was supposed to have left for roadtrip (which was postponed because of car stuff) he and I went to a party at Akira and Wendy's house. I proceeded to get rip-roaring drunk and spill my guts about how much I love him. I don't remember much else from that night, other than kicking Euge out of the room to make out with P. Akira? Wendy? care to fill in any details?

Well, we ended up taking the subway home together, where I continued my rant about how much I love him. So pathetic. But then... the next morning he was all "did you mean what you said last night" whereupon I said "of course" and he replied "oh wow. I really love you, too."

":) !!! yay!!!" was pretty much all I could think for the next week. There still isn't much space in my head for other thoughts. We spent the next five days together, leaving each other's sight only to pee. There were times I would get annoyed, and then look at him, realize I was in love, and start smiling like an idiot. Totally pathetic, of course.

There is one delightful anecdote I would like to offer as the first romance this blog is witness to. Reader, beware: it is rather romantic.

The Monday before I left we stayed in all day, and it ended up being one of the best days I've ever had in my life. We slept in, and when we finally woke up, he put on music - Nat King Cole - and began to make breakfast - Russian crepes. I got up and alternated between packing and dancing and helping him cook. I made us cocktails, and we sat together naked in the living room, on a blanket I spread out on the floor, and fed each other crepes and drank each other's cocktails and enumerated all the things we were feeling about each other. By now Rubber Soul was playing and we had a long discussion about the Beatles.

After we finished eating, we got up and did work - he helped me pack up all my books. Every so often, we'd read each other a poem or an excerpt that we particularly liked. This was a painfully hot Monday, so we also took several cold showers together, to help cool off. This lasted all day, and then at the very end of the night, we took a bottle of champagne to the roof. We sat and drank and talked and watched the sunrise. He recited Russian love poems he had memorized while I lay against him. And all day, this whole time, he would stop every five minutes, and look me in the eyes, and tell me how much he loves me.

The moral of this story: Never be with a man who can't tell you all the ways in which you're wonderful for a full 24 hours. Especially if it's in the blistering heat while he's helping you pack for a trip he doesn't want you to take.