Anatomy Of A Relationship

We got together in my neighborhood, and we walked. By the water. Near my place. Through the park. We held hands. I blushed. We stared. He laughed. We moved. Debated. Breathed. We kissed. He smiled. We ate. I ranted. About writing. The future. My siblings. He listened. We sat. We stood. “I like you.” He led. I followed. We roamed.

I met him at a friend’s house my senior year of high school. He used to playfully remind me of the “little purple dress” I wore and how timid I was when we were first introduced. He was two years older – a college guy – but delightfully just as awkward as I was. There was something so comforting about his voice. I could get lost in it.

Our short introduction was the only contact we had until my best friend suggested I follow her brother on Twitter. “I just think you would enjoy each other’s humor.”

With each tweet I read, I fell for him more and more. We had a similar sort of sarcasm. The same stupid rants. A shared need to always get the last word.

My junior year of college was when I decided I had to have him. The tweets were discreet in the beginning. “I have a crush on my best friend’s brother,” I’d say. Maybe he wouldn’t see them.

I got bolder as time went on, tagging him in each post.

“Let me buy you a damn cup of coffee.”

“Why don’t we just date?”

“Let’s make out.”

His responses were always the same – that I was his sister’s friend and he wouldn’t want to come between us. I never saw that as an issue. His sister happened to be amazing. One of those people who is so innately good you have trouble believing she actually exists. So the tweets continued, and two years later, we finally went out.

We smiled. Played games. Did nothing. We talked. We moved. I coughed. He worried. We ate. Breathed. Discussed. My friends. The news. Our ex’s. We sat. We slept. I squirmed. He laughed. We wandered.

With my best friend’s support, we were ready to give a relationship a real shot. I was leaving to teach English in France for seven months, but this is what we wanted.

“I am your boyfriend. You are my girlfriend. Discussion over.”

We worked on crosswords. Touched. Debated. Kissed. He smiled. I giggled. We stared. He burped. I cringed. We laughed. We blinked. I lost it. He calmed me. We sat. We stood. We talked. About Doughnuts. Travel. Our days. He led. I followed. We went. I squirmed. He laughed. I packed. We breathed.

Distance didn’t make a bit of a difference. We e-mailed. Told secrets. We laughed. Gave insults. We waited. Shared stories. We talked. We Skyped. I worried. He soothed. We sat. We moved. He spoke. Of family. Traffic. I listened. We stared. We talked. I hurt. He mended. We blinked. We breathed. We slept.

“I wish I could kiss and reassure you right now.”

I went home for a wedding and stayed at his new apartment. We unpacked. Shifted couches. We cleaned. Moved lamps. He vented. I listened. We bickered. He smiled. We walked. I blushed. We blinked. We breathed. We slept.

“I want to come home to you every night.”

We kissed. I shivered. We cuddled. He laughed. We ate. I rambled. About flying. Dreams. Nothing. He listened. I giggled. We sat. He smiled. We stood. I squirmed. We blinked. We breathed. We slept.

“This is all I need. I’ve never felt like this before.”

We ate. Reese’s. Gummies. Thai. We moved. He smiled. We debated. I giggled. We stared. He drove. We sang. I blushed. We danced. He laughed. We talked. About us. Our thoughts. Our plans. We sat. We stood. I vented. He listened. We walked. I napped. He held me. We blinked. We breathed. We slept.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

We sat. We touched. He sang. I hummed. We danced. I giggled. He talked. About work. Elephants. Coffee. I listened. He smiled. We laughed. Watched movies. Held hands. We roamed. I blushed. We snuggled. I packed. We blinked. We breathed. We slept.

“For some reason, I think that if I hold you tight enough, I won’t have to leave,” I told him. “You know I’d kidnap you if I could.” With our foreheads touching, I played with his ears as he stroked my cheek. We stared. We breathed. We kissed. I cried.

“I will be here when you get back.”

“You promise?”

“Promise promise.”

I returned to France, and the distance still couldn’t touch us. We e-mailed. We Skyped. He smiled. I giggled. We talked. Of Christmas. My visit. The countdown. We waited. I squirmed. He laughed. We blinked. We breathed. We slept.

We blinked. We breathed. We slept.

We blinked. We breathed. We slept.

We blinked. We breathed. We slept.

Then change.

We clashed. We shook. I tried. We slipped. We cracked. He left.