Driving home from his uncle's house on Saturday night, Billy turned his attention from Interstate 84 to me. "I've never taken a girlfriend with me on vacation, you know."
I didn't know. I'd assumed, but I had no concrete evidence that I was to be his first expedition into coupled traveling. I knew he'd taken his cousin and his brother at separate times. And I knew he'd gone with friends, both male and female, but he never said anything about a girlfriend going with him, and I'd never asked. Sometimes, it's just better not to know. That way, I can delude myself into thinking that I am the exception to the rule.
His out of the blue admission was a shock to me. And it made me feel good. We don't talk much about the future, and him telling me that our impending trip would be a first for him made my night. He may as well have said "This is serious, you know. I'm serious about you." Which is something that I know already, but is always nice to hear.
I carried the giddiness from hearing that with me through Sunday, when we left the house at four in the afternoon for an early dinner and a movie. As he ordered our sushi for us, he asked why I'd decided to forego the wine list. "I really haven't had anything to eat today," I said, sipping from the Coke I'd ordered earlier. "If I order wine, I'll be all loopy."
He smiled. "I know. You should." We giggled as I grabbed our waitress's attention and asked for a glass of Pinot Grigio to accompany my spicy tuna rolls.
I looked around Hana, at the red walls and the rich tiles. We'd been there on our first date, and sitting there again made me nostalgic. We traded stories about what we thought of one another the first time we sat there, seven months ago. I sipped my wine and smiled, thrilled to be there with him again.
By the end of our meal, I was just as loopy as I'd predicted. What started out as an introspective buzz became a giggly drunk as we pushed open the heavy doors of Hana and stepped out into the remaining daylight. We headed to a movie.
Failure to Launch made us laugh, and it got me all mushy. "Let's go to a bar," I said as we left the theater, shoving my arm through his. "I just want to sit with you. Around people." I leaned my head on his shoulder. He smiled and agreed.
Minutes later, we sat at Cosimo's, him with a Coke and me with my second glass of Pinot for the night. We saw a trivia machine to our left and moved down, vowing to battle it out over drinks and calamari.
Three glasses of wine and a plate of calamari later, we were $15 poorer from all the two-player Trivia Whiz battles we'd played. And I was so happy.
Sometimes, I just have days where I am so completely in love with my boyfriend that I can't contain myself. I feel like my heart will explode, it's so full of affection for him. Sitting next to him in that bar, like we were the only two people there, was exactly what I needed. I needed the light and giggly competition, the stolen kisses, the time with only him. I needed the laughing and the hand holding and the fun. Days like that make me so grateful that I have him.
I doubt him too much, I think. Or maybe I'm doubting myself. But sometimes I just don't believe he's going to stay around. That one day he'll just leave. And then we have a day like that, and I wonder what all of my wasted over-analysis was for. I'm just so happy.