"If" becomes "When"

Wednesday night Scott called me to let me know he got home safely. As we were saying our goodbyes, I said, "I'll talk to you tomorrow." I'll talk to you tomorrow is a big deal for me. Tomorrow is typically substituted with later or soon. Tomorrow sets an actual time frame. It suggests a level of comfort and familiarity.

I sucked my breath in. It was the first time I uttered it. If he replied with a later or a soon, I was going to be humiliated.

"Yeah," he yawned, "I'll see you tomorrow."

He took my talk and raised me a see. I pressed my tongue between my teeth and smiled.

Ifs are becoming whens in our vocabulary. I find the transition rather frightening. It pushes me out of my noncommittal comforts. If Scott actually paid attention, he would know that I have never said the word "boyfriend." And when I say "girlfriend," I use it in third person. I'm committed to him mentally, physically, and emotionally, but I'm not committed in my vocabulary.

He says, "When you meet my parents..." Actually, he already set a date. August 5th, I'm meeting his entire family.

I haven't exactly told my parents that I'm seeing someone. When they ask my plans, I flat-out lie about whom I'm with. If the pregnancy thing becomes true, it's going to serve as a shock to them in more than one way. (By the way, I don't have that special feeling associated with being preggers, so I'm going ahead and assuming everything is okay.)

I don't know if I'm ready to depend on when yet. I wish I could fast forward through the next few months until I'm already there. But I'd miss the falling part. I'd miss the part where he knelt down where I was sprawled on the floor and just kissed me for minutes. I'd miss the part where he left again last night and I blurted, "I miss you spending the night with me!" and he came back in the door, cupped my face in his hands, and told me he was doing it for us, for the relationship.

It's scary and it's exciting and I don't know what direction we're taking. Kinda like "Thriller"