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Under the Desk and Dreaming

One night, seventeen lifetimes ago, my college roommate and I found ourselves in a spectacular moment of heartache and wistfulness about former loves. We were up quite late that night, discussing all of the charming attributes we missed about our exes, and at some point, I ended up tossing and turning enough that my bed had scooted across the tile dorm floor and I was nearly under the desk. Since then, being “under the desk” was a shorthand phrase for longing, pining, dwelling on the sweetness of the guy one of us couldn’t stop thinking about.

I have been under the desk for days. Only this time, it’s not an unrequited crush or selected memories of an ex; this time, it’s CJ.

I’ve tried to play it cool and not be a huge dork about it, but I think I have given up. I’m not cool – think Amy Farrah Fowler from The Big Bang Theory, but with fewer pieces of wool clothing. I mean, one of the best things about this adventure is the ability to be myself in every moment, no matter how honest or risky, and have it be OK. So I am going to give myself the freedom to embrace my dorkiness and to just have fun.

In honor of Steph and the nights under the desk, here is my partial list of the things that I find endearing or charming or funny or otherwise wonderful:
~ He pays attention to and remembers what I say. He knows my niece and nephews names, which uncle I’m closest to, and my high school mascot.
~ He does sweet little things, like notices when I’m cold and gets up to bring me a blanket, or knows to bring me water instead of pop.
~ He does a pretty decent Eddie Vedder impression that never fails to make me laugh. He’s also a good singer, though I don’t think he has realized that I hear him when he sings under his breath.
~ Our level of desired affection is the same. He doesn’t complain if I want to hold his hand, but he doesn’t make me uncomfortable with an overabundance of PDA, either.
~ We have the same favorite lullaby. I got a piece of wall art from my niece and nephews for Christmas what has the phrase “You are my sunshine” on it, as well as their signatures. It’s one of my favorite things ever because it is the song I sang to them as teeny ones. When I showed CJ, he said it was his favorite because his mom sang it to him. I know it’s not an uncommon song, but I still think it’s sweet.
~ He makes seeing his family a priority. Bonus!
~ Let’s be honest: it doesn’t hurt that he’s a good kisser.
~ We don’t have to talk all the time. Sometimes, we just watch Jimmy Fallon and eat cookies. And that’s cool.
~ We seem to have a rhythm of being together that works. In true INTJ style, I can’t put my finger on why, but we fall into it.
~ It didn’t seem to phase him that my life has been turned inside out lately. Instead, he’s supportive, encouraging, and thoughtful. He’s mindful of it without dwelling on it.
~ I love the sound of his voice, the grayish edges of his irises, and the softness of the backs of his hands.
~ We spent part of our New Years morning talking about all the reasons we don’t want kids, from the silly to the significant, and never once did he look at me like I was a freak for any of the reasons I cited.
~ He just makes me smile. A lot. A lot a lot.

If you read this far, I’m impressed. I know it’s early on in the relationship, but so what? Part of the fun of relationships is the optimistic goofiness that happens at the beginning when everything is new. We aren’t the magic of movies and sitcoms, and it’s certainly not so revolutionary that it’s nothing you’ve seen/heard/experienced before. Maybe that is the magic, though: that ability to take something as mundane as cake pops and New Years Eve on TV and experience them as something altogether new and vibrant simply because of the person sitting next to you.

These little bitty moments of romance when he takes my hand while we walk or lets me have the better parking space are delightful, and I am having an incredibly fun time with it.