I never understood why my high school boyfriends were so weirded out by the thought of my pets watching us do the deed. My first boyfriend couldn’t even make out on the couch if my cats were nearby. It fully freaked him out, while I just found his reaction somewhat hilarious.

“I swear to God, she’s watching us!”

See to me, it was just like a painting or some piece of furniture. Not to denigrate my beloved animals to inanimate objects, but when you grow up with a menagerie of pets at all times, it’s not strange to have them around. They almost blend with the background. Yeah, my dog is in the same room. Big deal. We’re not inviting him to a threesome. Calm down, bro.

Adam wears glasses and every time he kisses me, he sort of dramatically rips them off. I find it both endearing and absurdly attractive. Now I find whenever I kiss someone without glasses I’m just a tiny bit sad. A little empty. A little bit wishing they had trouble seeing and could slap on a pair of thick-rimmed bad boys. Silently cursing 20/20 vision under my breath.

There’s nothing smooth about our interactions and I think I prefer that. There’s a sincerity in the awkwardness, like we’re both just slightly socially inept — not enough that it’s a problem, but we certainly aren’t being cast in any leading romantic roles. I’m a motormouth when I’m nervous. I talk a lot regardless of my comfort level, so you can bet your ass I will fill up those silences with incessant rambling. Adam looks at me with those glasses and I can’t stop myself. It’ll be five minutes and I realize it’s just been my voice. Talking. Stop talking. Oh my god, stop talking.

I get nervous in the spaces before kissing. It’s obviously quite different with someone you really know and have formed a level of comfort with, but in the beginning stages of learning who someone is, it’s all very calculated. What are the signs? The moments? Do I just say, “So like, we gonna make out soon or…?”

I don’t know why I’m 23 going on 13 with this stuff.

So what do I do when I want to kiss someone? I amp up the talking. It’s like a goddamn condition. Okay, I want to kiss him. I know he wants to kiss me. If I just shut the fuck up and linger for a second, we will be kissing. But nope, LET ME TALK MORE!!!

As a new puppy owner, he’s a doting dad. It’s attractive. Yes, there’s a reason all those dudes put puppies in their Tinder profiles. YOUR DOG MAKES ME WANT TO HOOK UP WITH YOU. IT’S SCIENCE, I THINK. I liked him pre-pup, but boy, it sure doesn’t hurt.

Only problem is Pup had a different idea. A “let’s join in because this looks snuggly” idea. There is a time and place for licking. When I get to know a dick I like, I might want to say, “hey, what’s up, hello” all Fetty Wap style with some tongue work. But being licked while mid-makeout with a cute guy by a canine? Nope. Not on my list of things I’m into.

I couldn’t stop laughing. There we are, trying to do this thing that shouldn’t be funny, and the pup is whining and I’m laughing and instinctively saying, “Aawwwwww” and he’s trying to figure out how he can fuck me but also not have his dog crying in the other room.

These are the moments when nothing goes according to plan and it’s funny and somehow even better. Him taking off his glasses and his dog trying to cockblock and me laughing and talking far too loudly. Him suggesting we go in another room, going there, still hearing the dog scratching at the door. I’m laughing more. He’s frustrated and looks even cuter. These are the moments I remember it can be light and fun. And not feel so heavy. Not feel like every touch has to be a sad poem.