“Do you think we should move in together?” the words feel foreign now that they’ve left my mouth. I can’t possibly be old enough to live with a guy. But what other choice do we have? James’ job is in Rhode Island and it’s this or long distance and at 22 years old, I don’t see the point.
My 22nd year was the blind one, the one in which I saw nothing, not because it wasn’t there, but because I was always looking down.
The day we moved into the first floor of a white house on a long street, I drove in a U-Haul and smiled the whole way. It was June and it was warm and there was so much potential. James met us in the driveway with a pickup full of ugly furniture and that feeling I was anticipating – that one of excitement and newness – was nowhere to be found. He busied himself with couches and chairs, a mattress, a dresser, a desk and one table. I placed forks and knives in the only drawer in our kitchen, stacked bowls next to plates and plates next to cups. After everyone left, I cried in the shower because what have I done? We’re not ready for this. I’m not ready for this.
On the first day of fall, I tried to be hopeful. The first day of winter, I felt more lost than before. By spring, I was happy, but for all the wrong reasons. By summer, I was ready, one foot out the door.
In July, I moved home for four months, and I slept by myself and I asked for help from a God I don’t name. I was sad all the time and I blamed everyone else. It was a selfish year – that 23rd year, and I refused to consider the impact it made. He never blamed me though, he simply understood.
In November, I came down to Providence to visit him and the house felt empty, unloved, and forgotten. Is that what I had done to James, too? I looked at him, as he cut out gingerbread men with a gingerbread shaped cookie cutter and I felt like an asshole. We didn’t say much about it, but I moved back in that week. I lost my job a few months later, lost my mind right after that. I tried not to feel sorry for myself, but it felt like the only thing to do.
My 24th year was a forgiving one, in which I learned to forgive myself and forgive James for not being exactly what I dreamed up, and thanking him for being so much more than that. I forgave him for working odd hours and leaving me alone all the time. I forgave myself for being young and confused. It was a year where I felt firm in my beliefs, where I voiced my opinions, where I picked myself back up. It was the year we sat cross-legged on the bed and drew our dreams on yellow lined paper and nodded our head and decided that yes, we are different, and no, we aren’t perfect, but look at all of these things that we want, look at your dreams: they look the same as mine.
To be continued…
12 comments :
Oh, I love this. I so love this.
Can’t wait to keep reading.
{so glad to know you. so glad I met you and found your blog and your writing. You’re a good one, Jenna. a good one for sure.}
Can’t wait for Part Two!!
I love it and can’t wait for more
Very beautiful! There were times I felt the same way about my husband when we moved in together (before we got married). I even looked at apartments one time when I thought I would move out. I’m glad I stuck it out.
“but look at all of these things that we want, look at your dreams: they look the same as mine.”
Amen girl. Amen. My boyfriend and I both have the same dream: get a cute house, get a dog, get a car, get married, have kids one day. But we both have really different ways of getting there. Just an anecdote: one time we each wrote down the way we would clean the house–it was a HUGE insight into how the both of us operate as people.
Luckily since then I have stopped trying to change him and tried more to accept the way he is and see our differences as strengths. That definitely helps.
Can’t wait for part 2!
I absolutely adore your writing — you have such a flawless way with words that really paint such a sharp picture. Looking forward to Part 2!
i have an intense love hate relationships with cliffhangers. eeeeeep!
I also can’t help but wonder if (at 22 moving in with my boyfriend in June) I will have similar feelings.. at least when I’m at a loss I know who to call & that it’s probably normal, right?! xo L
Can’t begin to describe how much I relate to this. Nearly cried when I read it. Can’t wait for the next part!!!
I read this earlier today and can’t stop thinking about it. It’s just so honest and real. I’m really excited to keep reading these.
This is so beautiful. Your writing is like the lace shift dress I’ve been eyeing for so long but will never obtain — too scared to take the plunge and expose myself. Man, if I had your writing chops I think I could definitely stop searching for whatever it is I am searching for. Thank you.
I’ve just started reading your blog and I can’t believe the timing of this post. I’m only 23 and my boyfriend and I moved in 2 years ago. I’m looking at moving back home for a little while in the next few months, and while I’m trying to be hopeful about our relationship, I’ve been so sad and worried because it just seems like the opposite of what you’re “supposed” to do. And my boyfriend and I are such different people, but at the end of the day, I love him and that’s that. Thank you, thank you, thank you, for showing me a glimpse of a relationship that’s not picture-perfect, but is successful and happy. I needed some hope that there’s a chance everything will work out the way it’s supposed to, and your post did just that.
Your writing is my favorite of every single blog I read.
Also.. I can’t scroll through older posts of yours (only most recent two)… am I missing something?