Lovely lips

I’m sitting at work right now, and because I have downtime I thought that I would blog a bit. It’s been two months since I updated this. Two months. The reason that I have been so bad at finding the time to write is because two months ago today I met the love of my life.

 Sure, it sounds black-and-white-old-movie-esque to say that I fell in love at first sight, but it’s true. I did. And, so did she.

I can tell you the first few moments that I thought that I was in love, the moments where I felt like I was in love, and the moments where I knew that I was in love: every single moment involved her lips. The very first moment that she smiled at me, I tingled. She pulled up in her car next to mine and smiled. The only way I can describe how I feel would be to say that I turned into a puddle on my dashboard and car seat. I thought that this could be love. Fast-forward to kissing. I was laying underneath her shaddow and her warmth and our lips hovered for a moment a few breaths apart. We tasted each others breath. I felt like this could be love. Fast forward again to being apart for two days and getting a text message after hanging up the phone: “This is me two days after i met you telling you that i love you and can’t wait to love you more and more and more…” Imagining these words coming from her heart, through her lips convinced me, and I knew this was love.

Her lips and her mouth are beautiful. Our love is beautiful.

Straightforward honesty

As stated in my introduction somewhere, I am a lesbian. I am out, proud and I love women. I’m not obnoxious or flamboyant; I’m just here and queer. I have a short haircut and I don’t dress very girly. My style tends to be rather androgynous but I have a female figure. Some people’s gaydar goes off when they see me and some don’t. It’s usually a 50/50 thing.

I was on the bus, going home, on Valentine’s Day a few days ago. I sat next to a nice woman and she began chatting with me. First about my phone, and then about other random things. She was very friendly and it’s not every day that the person you sit next to on the T in Boston starts up a friendly conversation with you.

This woman asked me something that no stranger had ever asked me. She was talking about Valentine’s day and asked me why I didn’t have any plans. This is how the conversation went:

Her: “You don’t have a– are you gay?”
Me: “Yes.”
Her: “You don’t have a girlfriend?”
Me: “Nah.”
Her: “Probably best. why deal with other people’s bullshit when you have your own to deal with?”
Me: *laugh* “You know what? No stranger has ever come out and just asked me, point blank, if I am gay.”
Her: “Well, I know it’s rude, but I wanna know. Doesn’t matter to me, I just don’t want to assume that you are or you aren’t and be wrong either way!”
Me: “No, I think it’s great. I wish more people were as okay with just asking that kind of question as you are – I think it’s important.”

Made me smile. The fact that she nonchallantly asked me about my sexual orientation when we had only known each other for less than five minutes was incredible. Being honest and straightforward is beautiful.

Intensive encounter

I dread doing laundry. I live in an apartment complex where, in order to do my laundry, I have to leave my apartment, go out the back door, through the courtyard, into the building next door, up to the second floor, around the corner, down to the first floor and to the laundry room *deep breath*.

My dirty clothing pile had merited it’s own zip code, so I decided it was time to launder the filthy mess. I loaded it all up in my laundry bag and climbed down the flight of stairs to begin the trek to the laundry room. I managed to only have two loads of laundry, which equals three dollars. I came back in a half an hour and all of the dryers were either broken or taken. I only knew that the empty driers did not work because the elderly woman burning a hole in my back with her eyes, alerted me.

I decided that I would wait because her driers only had 17 minutes left and I didn’t think that going back to sit on my couch for a few minutes was worthwhile. Immediately, this woman began talking to me.

I learned her entire story; where she was born, where she’s lived, the nature of her life’s work, what her mother used to cook for her, where she had each of her children, the names of her grand children and their children, all of the people who are presently dead or alive in her life, and many other little facts. This woman was born and raised in Alabama and moved to Boston in the 60′s. She is 71 years old and stopped working two summers ago. She still had her Alabama accent and that wonderful southern way of telling a story. Her life could be a movie. I couldn’t stop smiling.

I was so impressed that I was able to learn this woman’s life story in the 17 minutes it took her laundry to dry. I can honestly say that I have always wanted to meet a stranger (and I always imagined it someone completely different than myself) and learn all about them, and never see them again. Her name is Dotty. She made me smile, she enriched my life – she might not know what those 17 minutes meant to me, but I will never know what they meant to her either. Two lives can connect for a moment and mean a million, while we all have relationships that linger for years and bring us nothing at all.

Those 17 minutes were beautiful. Being given the time to listen to learn about a total strangers life is beautiful.

Unadulterated excitement

My younger sister, Savannah, is four years old. She is loud, outspoken, and very happy. There is sixteen and a half years between the two of us, but the blood we share bridges that gap. 

Savannah, or (as we call her) Boopie, came to visit Boston once this year and got to ride on the subway. She was so excited and would not stop talking about it. The pure and unadulterated excitement shines off her cute little cheeks clearer than I’ve ever seen on any child’s face. 

I occasionally videochat with my mom and siblings. I got to see Boopie tonight via webcam.

Tonight, I asked her: “When are you going to come visit me?”
She replied: “Umm…Monday!”
My mother interjected and asked if I would really like to take her for a weekend. They live about 3 hours and a boat ride away, so it would have to be well planned out. Mom and her husband, Boopie’s father, want to take a trip to Florida to see my grandmother. Why not leave Boopie at Sissy’s?!
So, with this news Boopie started jumping around and yelling, “yay! yay! yay!”
I told her: “Boopie…when you get here, we can go on the train!”
She immediately ran to her father and exclaimed: “DAD! When I go stay with Sissy, I get to go on the train!”

She ran back to the computer and looked right into the camera. This moment, when she smiled and tried to really look at me through the screen, was beautiful. Her shining, unadulterated excitement is beautiful. I hope she never loses that – and if she does, I hope that she finds it and holds on tight.