I’m not sure what’s got me depressed this go-round. Maybe it’s how I’m listening to Wicked and missing Jen, Tia, Sara, Bethany, Suzie, and Jamie so much that I want to cry. Maybe it’s the moderately unsettling thought that so many of my friends are getting married soon. Maybe it’s the stress of seeing my mom and sister for the first time since I moved (I wish that wasn’t so stressful, but let’s face it, it’s going to be). Maybe it’s knowing that this trip to meet Josh’s family is a bigger deal than I’d want to admit because then I’d be saying something “that counts.”
It’s not like I haven’t met boyfriends’ parents before. When I met Mitch’s family, I wasn’t dating him so it wasn’t a big deal once we did start dating.
When I met the Hope ex’s parents, he hadn’t told them he had broken up with his last girlfriend, so they just kept asking me questions like, “What’s the population of your town?”, “How do you feel about illegal immigration?” etc. In fact, the only interesting thing they had to say to me was, “Have you ever thought of going to Africa?” Well, yes I have, ma’am. More than I think about most things, actually. But it’s not that you’d care because you aren’t invested in me at all.
When I met Gui’s family, it was a simple matter of not speaking enough Spanish to talk to his mom, having his little brother take advantage of the culturally accepted kiss on the cheek when saying hello and good bye, and realizing that I really wasn’t comfortable with the situation at all.
Honorable mentions go to Much Ado co-star Justin’s mom:
Her: It’s really weird to see you kiss my son every night. I don’t even know your name.
Me: Nice to meet you. My name’s Elyse.
And the PK’s Pastor Father:
Him: Now that you’re in your first semester of college, have you met Mr. Right?
Me: Heavens no, but I’ve met plenty of Mr. Good-Enough-for-Right-Nows.
Him: Oh…?
So really, the difference is that I’m meeting people who are actually going to matter in the long run. I knew this was going to happen eventually, but here it is staring me in the face. While I was packing and trying to figure out if I could ever own enough blue, green, and black shirts to finally get to a point where I could stop buying blue, green, and black shirts, I couldn’t help but try to remember how I got to this point.
May 30, 2011, stranded in Kentucky. My mom, sister, and I had been on the road about six hours, and in spite of taking a wrong turn in Louisville, we were making good time. We drove so fast that the lack of air conditioning in the Zambezi Zelda Fitzgerald didn’t matter. We blasted the 1940’s novelty hits as we went down highway 75. My sister was singing along—huge deal.
Then I felt Zelda buck. This wasn’t the typical, “No, I’m not enjoying this all that much. Go to White Castle or something instead of driving so long,” buck. This was a, “Oh, you want to keep driving? Absolutely not. See that hill? We’re going down it. Hang on, Skip!” buck. I heard something crunch, and I watched the RPMs go from 2 to 5. Zelda was down for the count. We pulled over, called a tow truck, and sat motionless at the bottom of the hill for 2 hours before finally being towed to a hotel.
May 31, first time hearing Josh’s voice over the phone. Josh called me after he got off of work that day. No pretense, no hidden motives, he just wanted to make sure I was all right and that I was keeping my spirits up as much as possible. I’ll admit I already had a crush on my future roommate at the time, so the 36 minute phone call had me geeking out more than I hoped he could hear so many states away. Any sort of crush I had on him was amplified after that.
He told me a few weeks ago that he could hear me smiling over the phone. I guess he was well on his way to knowing me way too well even then.
June 3, meeting Josh. There he was in his pajamas at the front door. I was wearing a white sundress because it’s the only thing I own that’s ever warranted a “two syllable damn.” I was expecting to only be living there for a few weeks, so I had to make some sort of impression, right? Even if something wasn’t going to happen that summer, I wanted to at least leave the option open eventually. The first thing I noticed in person was his ears. Then the shape of his face. Then his eyes. Then his voice. We spent the rest of the time that he was awake at Hollywood Studios riding Star Tours and getting backstory. I had an idea how much I was going to like him when I actually had the chance to meet him, but this was ridiculous. I couldn’t find a single reason not to like him more—believe me, I tried. I absolutely hated long distance. I didn’t want to get attached to a guy I had just met. But after one day of hanging out with Josh, the damage was done. He just kept getting more perfect.
June 4-June 30, the month that everything happened. There’s no better way to describe it. Everything happened from me telling my mom I was going to marry him eventually and learning that there was someone else out there who liked Muppet Treasure Island as much as I do to eating whole chickens with our bare hands to our first “I love you”s. Things go faster when your introduction to somebody is being his/her roommate, but in retrospect, it really wasn’t as fast as it seems.
I had been told once that the first 3 months of the relationship define the rest of the relationship, so I figured that if I wanted this to go anywhere, I had to stay put. Heading back to Indiana could wait—indefinitely were it not for that whole graduation thing. By July, I figured out that I could finagle graduation into a semester, and boy howdy, it was worth it. Knowing that we would only be away from each other for a semester and having 3 months worth of memories under our belts made it that much easier to give long distance a chance.
January 4, 2012, starting the big drive down to Florida with Josh. We had done the impossible. Not only had long distance worked, but we had learned how to count on each other way more than we even had over the summer. It seemed like things had kind of come full circle. The last time when I was making this drive, I was heading to meet Josh, but this time, it felt like driving off towards the rest of my life. Some grand moment of cathartic solipsism after being away from each other so long.
Before you think that I rearranged my life to be closer to some guy I only knew for 3 months, don’t worry. Part of what made everything seem so perfect was how easily everything fell into place. He instinctively knew to quote my favorite play while putting boots on. He made me omelets without knowing that that’s my favorite way to have eggs. Instead of being weirded out by how I can picture punctuation in my head, he gave punctuation marks a sound (which I brought back to school with me, much to the joy and delight of my coworkers at the Writing Center). We don’t fight; we talk it out. He promised to be my best friend and hasn’t let me down once. He helped give my dreams for my future a form and function—and he added rhinos. He made dating over the phone easy. He’s the only person who gets to play with my hair or hold me while I cry. We just fit. 10 months later, nothing about it is disappointing. It sounds cliché, but it really is getting better all the time.
Am I nervous? Sure. Who wouldn’t be? Am I going to do something embarrassing? Of course; that’s part of the fun of it. This is just the next part of the adventure, packing to meet his family and all. After thinking about it, I’m not so depressed about packing. I’m good at it, after all. I’ve got most of this covered already. The big stuff like realizing how important Josh is to me is long since taken care of. Everything else is going to fall into place just as easily. I guess it’s just strange knowing how much this trip and packing matters this time. This is an instance where, once again, I can tell that I’m barreling head first towards the rest of my life. Here goes nothing. Wish me luck!
