photo by me. july 2009
It started with him sitting on the church curb playing my favorite jack song 'angel'.
It could really only get better from there.
"Please drive."
Like a fool I insisted. I knew the way. I know how to drive. But you know, he's the boy. I feel like driving is a boy thing to do.
So we went. And I admired all of downtown. The little houses. The pretty porches.
"I want to live there. Or somewhere like it."
I point. He nods and agrees.
We park the car. Already he is enjoying himself. Maybe I've said something funny. He's happy, I'm happy.
We take a while to pick our pottery. We finally decided on plates. We will switch to always remember. We take even longer to choose what to design. And then also the colors.
I sit down to paint first. I'm not a perfectionist.
It's a quiet for a while.We are concentrating.
I sneak a peek at his artwork. I can't wait to show my roommates what this adorable boy made for me.
After learning he doesn't eat vegetables, his favorite chocolate is Milky Way, and he's best friends with his little sister, we are done painting.
We continue on to see more. More downtown.
Herby's Soda Fountain to get our greasy fill.
Main Street Magic Shop. We watch in awe and can't help but laugh.
Silver Threads thrift store. I think it smells like old Subway. Like the restaurant. He disagrees.
The Public Library. We try to laugh as quietly as possible in the serious section. We almost get kicked out.
We run into friends. My friend at least.
"Is this your boyfriend?" she smiles.
I look at him in his trendy striped shirt and crafty hand painted keds.
Oh, I wish.
Then Strada Verde. Way too expensive.
The Salsa Store. Not spicy enough to tempt him. Too nasty looking to tempt me.
We go through all the antique stores.
"Our house will be filled with antiques."
We've talked about marriage because we know we'd be perfect together. We point at everything until our entire future home is decorated.
Now, it's time to go home.
Has it really been five hours?
Before he leaves, I hand him a box of memories I made for him. You know, to remember me.
It's a favor in return of the beautiful letter he wrote me.
We hug tightly before he leaves.
I'm left breathless.
Could every day be this wonderful?
Please.
