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In honor of Valentine’s Day
An excerpt from my Journalesque phone notes —
3.23.20
I was way earlier than expected, so I took a wrong turn on purpose and restarted Grimes’ newest single before walking into the restaurant. A pep talk to pop music just to calm the nerves — nothing new for me. I chose Llama Inn because it was familiar and delicious, but also sophisticated. The kind of place you’d be proud to confess when people ask years later, “Where was your first date?” He said it was one of the first restaurants he’d been to when he moved to the city three months prior, and that he’d love to give it another go. I walked in and immediately felt sanctuary. Relief from the cold of a Brooklyn February. “Brett for two at the bar.”
The host invited me to go ahead and take one of the two side-by-side empty barstools. I chose the one on the left. “Can I get you something?” the bartender asked while filling my glass with water. The room was dim but energetic. An airy minimalism dressed with candlelight, modern art and wooden finishes. Just how I remembered it. “I’m definitely going to order a drink but just waiting for someone.” I smiled and took off my glasses. I’m better this way, I thought.
Through the slight haze of my naked eyes, I saw him approaching outside the window. I hope I smell good. He walked in. I turned my attention toward the door with a certain frivolity — not trying to seem as though I anticipated the exact moment of his arrival but not trying to seem as though I didn’t. Cuuute, I thought. Even cuter in person.
We greeted each other with a hug. He took off his coat. There was something about his smile. His voice. Had I met him before? Why did he feel so familiar? Did we know each other in childhood? A past life? Were we meeting each other for the first time or was this a reunion that we’ve been awaiting for longer than I’d realized?
I probably asked him how he was in some aggressive, anxious need to kick off the conversation immediately. At some point we ordered a drink. The details of our initial interaction was overshadowed by... his skin.
I noticed it when he held up the menu — when we decided, “We should probably skim the options now, dive into conversation after.” His hand was glowing bright with light. Translucent, like the lamp beside my childhood bed. In shock and confusion, I glanced up to his neck, his face. All yellow with brilliance. The glow radiating from him was so strong it seeped through the fibers of his shirt. Like someone had hollowed out his insides and put a lightbulb where his heart should be. His entire body contributed to the ambience of the space. He was easily the brightest source of light in the room.
Our eyes met. Mine were wide in disbelief. His were squinting with laughter as he opened his hands to gesture toward my body. “You’re literally glowing!” he said. “Look at you!”
I flicked my attention down to my hands. Exuding the same color as his. We met eyes again, mine wider than before. I touched my face, trying to understand what was happening to me. To both of us. My skin didn’t feel hot or unfamiliar. It just felt... great. Smooth, clear, soft.
My mind instantly scrolled through my entire dating history. Connections that were strong but never enough. Circumstances that were entirely inconvenient. Pasts that controlled futures. Lots of almosts. Lots of maybes. But never this. Never glowing. I’d only seen this twice, maybe three times, in my life. Two people that were so right for each other that everyone noticed. And notice they did.
“First date?” The man eating alone on Connor’s right leaned in as my consciousness snapped back to the present moment. Connor and I glanced back at each other. He was still laughing. And he was still glowing. I smiled bigger than I ever had and shook my head as if to admit defeat. I guess this was us now. Laughing and smiling and glowing. Together. And there was no denying our brilliance. Everyone could see it.
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A few things I’m thankful for:
- To love and be loved by Connor
- The possibility of big, scary change
- Morning sunlight
Pop culture things I’m thinking about:
- The return of magic to mainstream society!
- This song, this song, and this song
Random journal entry:
1.28.24
it’s scary to trust yourself
because then you can do whatever you want
Something to share :)
Some of you may know that I struggle with pretty severe Relationship OCD (among several other ‘themes’). I was diagnosed around 10 months ago. OCD has been a pretty tough experience, both for me and sometimes for the people I love. OCD has been present in some of the most painful days of my life and contributed to some great pain in others.
In a way, I still haven’t fully accepted that I have OCD. It makes me sad, frustrated, confused. But at the same time, the diagnosis itself has come with a seed of hope. They say that even though OCD is commonly debilitating for the experiencer, it’s incredibly susceptible to the right treatment. Apparently that treatment is ERP.
I say all of this for 3 reasons:
One, to raise awareness around relationship OCD and just OCD in general. If you resonate at all with the symptoms, I have deep love and empathy for you! You’re not alone.
Second, as a promise to myself to practice ERP, in some way, every day. I deserve to live a life that is happy and beautiful! Name a better cause than that.
And third, as both an ‘I’m sorry’ and a ‘thank you’ to those I love. They say OCD targets the things we care about most. To me, that sounds like some sick, twisted curse. A doomed fate. But perhaps, as with most curses, there’s some sort of magical loophole.
It usually has something to do with love.
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Thanks for reading :) Talk again soon.