Run On

Somewhere along the way—after the relationship status, after meeting the friends, after receiving their respective blessings—life became ordinary. Events that were once noteworthy are now commonplace. We still kiss during commercials, but now it's NBD. No big deal.

Abraham notes we spend 7 days a week together when he isn't traveling. I don't notice. I count the days by the number of nights I sleep alone.

My coworkers laugh that my phone vibrates 8 hours a day. We talk all day, mostly about nothing. One day I called him while I was driving home from dinner with a friend, a time normally reserved for checking in with my mother.

"I just wanted to bug you for a little bit," I'll say.

"You aren't bugging me," he'll say. "I'm sure we'll talk more later," he'll say.

Memorable moments are now the times I'll sleepily walk into his bathroom to brush my teeth, having given up on going home for the night. He says he likes seeing me in his t-shirt and boxers. My dog has picked her favorite spot in his room: under the window and behind the bed.

We don't have stories anymore. The story is one continuous run-on sentence:

A girl meets a boy and they like each other and speak in flirtatious banter for months before falling into bed with each other and spending the normal, awkward silences reserved for first dates as naked, intimate silences until one day there is daylight and in the warm light piercing through the cold air the boy catches up to the girl because, to her, this is easy and, to him, it’s becoming a safe place to fall so he lets go and she is not disappointed and the days turn into nights turn into days until the crisp air warms into a sticky heat and he wonders where all the time has gone and she sighs and smiles, just as she did in the beginning, and extends her hand to him which he reluctantly not-so-reluctantly takes because this is the facade he has built to protect himself in the past but he’s grateful that the girl understands without complaint and she remains sighing and smiling and extending her hand with a quiet confidence that he doesn't realize stems from so many hours spent hurting until she wasted away all the tears she had to give until only smiles and laughter and love are left for him.