Summer Snapshots
Peace Corps Guy and I got off to a rough start. The first few dates we went on were easy and then inexplicably, the world imploded and his issues and my issues erupted into a Big Hot Mess. I wanted to just bow out gracefully but something prevented me from doing it. He was just too good to let go of, possessed too many qualities that intrigued me.
So we would go along okay and then we’d hit a bump and he would be all WHAT THE ? and I would be all YOU SUCK and it was just very…frustrating. It all came down to the way we communicate, the insecurities we carry with us, the uncertainty of where boundaries lie. Friday, he read the blog post I wrote about him and was understandably upset. He revolted against the idea that What He Was and What He Was Not could be summed up in a paragraph on a website.
And I could’ve gotten defensive.
I could’ve said I AM A WRITER, DEAL.
But…I didn’t.
I just…apologized.
And I meant it.
He explained what exactly bothered him about it.
I told him exactly why I wrote it, admitted that I did leave out positive qualities and experiences because it painted a better and more succint picture if I generalized.
I just said I was sorry.
We took all our feelings and spilled them out onto his coffee table like marbles.
Some of them clinked together and some of them rolled onto the floor and others just stayed put and spun.
This weekend we started from scratch. Salty sea air, waves crashing down, surfboards cutting through water, afternoon naps, fireworks.
We dragged my roommate through most of it and judging from the pictures that I took, it doesn’t actually even look like Peace Corps Guy was there. But…I’m glad he was. Because he clicked the camera and captured holiday weekend memories. Because he did make me laugh. And he did listen to my interests. And he was all around wonderful.
And he baked a blueberry pie. And brought a blanket. And on Saturday night, as the sun sunk low over New Jersey, Peace Corps Guy, my roommate and I sat down on the abandoned West Side Highway and ate a blueberry pie and waited for the fireworks.
Oh summer, I have been waiting for you.
Love the photos!
Looks like you guys had a lot of fun. I’m not sure where you guys are camped out, watching the fireworks, but it looks like you pulled over to the side of the road. Which is a little weird
As for the “I’m a writer” part, I would be rather intimidated to know that someone I’m dating is chronicling everything in their blog, warts and all. I, honestly, didn’t think you were still dating him given the candor. And, from the itty bitty picture of his backside – he looks nice!
Yeah, dude. I think when I posted that, I was pretty sure we were done with it all. And…then I changed my mind. So, I will most likely remain mum on the relationship stuff going forward as that’s usually not the focus of the blog and it just is weird and unfair and…weird. I wouldn’t want someone doing it to me so…there you go.
We were sitting on the West Side Highway! They closed it down. It was freaky and awesome at the same time.
Yeah!!!! I’m not sure why but this post made me want to say yeah!!!! Your roommate is cute!!!! aauuuuwww summer…..
May I just say I love your writing?
Its free flowing spirit, snappy pauses and endless rhetorical Q&As are addictive. It’s a stream of consciousness, a collision of facts, thoughts and emotions. It’s a dose of honesty, injected with vulnerability, wrapped humor. It’s a poetic conversation with oneself, a quick-witted comeback to life’s irrationality, a colorful expression of self-awareness.
I agree with your aunt – write a book, an essay collection, a column, whatever. Just feed it to us, in whichever way shape or form, one character at a time. I can’t write, but I’ll do photography.
That. I. Can. Do.
correction: “wrapped *in* humor”
yes first comment and already a typo … tsk tsk tsk