Monday, February 23, 2015

I got in.

Well, I got in. I was accepted in to the one and only school that I applied to. The eighth-oldest school in America. (Which, b-t-dubbs, is way cooler than being the ninth-oldest.) When I found out, a huge weight- I'm talking astronomically large- lifted off my shoulders and I suddenly didn't feel like such a schmo. I have a purpose again. I have a reason for being here, other than to be near my incredible significant other. I have something that is just for me. And, yes, I still have a few hoops to jump through and 6 months of waiting for my first semester to do, not to mention that I'll most likely be paying off student loans until I die... but the hardest part is over. I got in.
People ask me if being here is everything I ever thought it would be. In a lot of ways, it's not. In a lot of other ways, it's more. I would say the most difficult part is waking up in the morning. (Not the butt-crack of dawn waking up that I barely do to kiss my love goodbye, but the later waking up that happens when the sun has already risen and I consider myself human again.)
It's quiet in this house when he's gone. All I hear is the gentle drips of the radiator in the bedroom. Sometimes the sun shines through the blinds, sometimes it doesn't. It's on these quiet mornings that I miss home the most. I miss my morning routine of snuggles with my two little furry BFFs and coffee with my mom. I miss getting in the car and not having to GPS where the nearest gas station or grocery store is. (I also miss people not trying to run me over on the road. Come on, New Jersey. Drive better.) I miss being able to call my best friend up for a gym session and lunch. And, okay, I kind of miss not having to put on seventeen layers of clothing to take out the trash. Guys, it's that cold.
But other times, when it's more, I'm driving the streets of my new town in complete awe at the world around me. Never did I see myself living in a place with this much snow everywhere. It transforms wherever it falls in a way that can only be described as pure magic. The sharpness of the cold air when I step outside surprises me less and less as the days go by and I actually caught myself calling our 38 degree weather yesterday "warm". Going in to the city on Valentine's Day... that was a day that was so much more.
It took exactly one hour from the time we left our train station down the street to arrive smack in the center of Manhattan. Everyone there is in such a hurry; places to go, people to see. They walk around there so fast it's like they don't even see how amazing that city is anymore. I stopped on 7th Avenue, just outside of Penn Station and Madison Square Garden. Stopped and allowed the amazement to wash over me. Then I did it again in Times Square. Again in the pub where we ate lunch and Irish coffees- the one from How I Met Your Mother. Again on our romantic, snow-storm walk through Central Park. And again just before we left when we each consumed what was probably the worst hot dog we had ever eaten. But according to me, if you're eating a terrible hot dog in the middle of New York City- you're still doing alright.




Saturday, February 7, 2015

This crazy thing.

So I did this crazy thing. I packed up everything I own, got into a truck alongside my handsome boyfriend, and drove into the sun(rise) to my new home across the country... New Jersey. Now, if someone, somewhere, along the way in my first twenty-two years of wandering this earth had said to me, "Someday you are going to fall in love and that love is going to take you to New Jersey," I would have laughed in their face. No, really, it would have been hysterical. Except, they would have also been right.
When I met my beau I was twenty years old and most certainly not looking for love. I had had my heart broken one time too many to be fooling around with the likes of that nonsense. I had also seen my fair share of failed relationships to know that if it happened, cool. If it didn't, I'd get a few dogs, maybe a couple cats, and call it a life. No harm, no foul. That was not, however, the plan that God had for me. (And, yes, I believe in God. And, no, I will not shove it down your throat. And, no, I will not shove my love story down your throat, either. Well, maybe.)
I made him chase me for about six months. Ha, I can't even type that with a straight face. You see, that is what he would have you believe when in reality I just wasn't interested in anything but finding myself at the time that he came around. Finally, a couple of days after the fourth of July and six months after we'd actually met, I went to a party at his house. His big, brown eyes, somewhat of a Pennsylvania accent, and funny-looking cut off shorts greeted me at the door. Before we knew it, we were in the backyard playing guitar, singing, and talking until one in the morning. The rest, as they say, is history.
I couldn't quite believe how fast I fell in love with him. I couldn't quite believe he was real, even, or, like, an actual human. In fact I asked him frequently where he came from to which he would reply, "Pennsylvania," with a smart-alick smirk on his face. But fall in love with him, I did.
It wasn't your typical-Nicholas-Sparks kind of love, either. Of course it has plenty aspects of that- slow dancing in the kitchen with no music, staring longingly into each other's eyes over a glass (or four) of wine, and not to mention kissing in the rain. But, it was also the kind that made you look at life in new ways and question things you'd never even thought of before. It was the kind that made you understand why people want to get married and settle down in a humble home somewhere, maybe pop out a cute little kid or two. It was the kind that gave you butterflies and made you feel like you were fourteen again, but also gave you the confidence of a strong and independent thirty year old. It was an emotional roller coaster of falling in love with each other and finding new parts of ourselves in the process. Finding new reasons to embrace with open arms this thing we call "life". And I'm not sure why I am talking about this aspect of our relationship in a past-tense because these things have never really stopped.
My family, whom I have a lot of and I am incredibly close to, pretended not to like him while secretly loving him almost as much as I do. My mother, who was partly responsible for our even meeting, loved him until she realized he'd be the one to "take me away" someday, then hated him, then loved him again. My friends liked him from the start, but he caused change in our world, too. Before it was just me and the girls, going to stupid keg parties, and having crushes on stupid boys, and suddenly they could see the way I looked at him and the way he looked at me. We all knew that part of our lives was over.
Which brings me to now. One year and seven months later. I am sitting in my brand-new, beautiful apartment, with the handsome boyfriend I speak of off at work doing things that successful engineers do, starting this blog.
I'd always dreamed of New York City. Sheer pictures of it on Google was enough to give me chills. I'd always dreamed of living there someday, if only ever in my mind. So when my handsome, successful, engineer-of-a-paramour (did I mention that already?) was promoted in his company and asked to move to New Jersey for two years, I said, and I quote, "Let's go."
Don't get me wrong, I have had plenty of moments since arriving here wanting to go back to the moment I said that and slap myself silly rather than declare the two words that would, in turn, shake up every aspect of my very existence. But I said them. And I'm here.
Even though being here is terrifying and not knowing anyone sucks and I miss my family, my mom, my puppies, my friends, my routine, and... you know... sunshine... I still know deep, deep down in the deepest parts of my soul that this was something I had always been meant to do. Something that WE had always been meant for- to build each other up, to support each other, and to follow our own dreams in the process. Even though I am currently unemployed, school doesn't start for another six months, I don't even know if I've gotten in to the school I wish to finish at for my bachelors, and I have absolutely nothing to wake up and do at the current moment- I still belong here. Something great is coming. And I know that because so many great things already have.