A: You have good energy.
I assumed she meant my aura because not having slept in 3 years, no wait, make that 3 1/2 years, I felt like a walking corpse.
We had just finished a discussion about having kids. She said that she wanted them. Hearing her, I refrained from relaying the story of the day–coming around a corner to find a costco sized bag of salt and vinegar chips piled 12 inches high on the living room floor. The DVD cabinet hacked into and DVD’s piled on one side of the carpet and DVD packages lying on the other side. The furniture that had been knocked over. The window that had been “washed” with Dawn Advanced Action spray. The cream cheese in The Baby’s hair. More marker stains on the carpet. Stickers on all the walls.
She had said that singlehood sucks and is lonely. I refrained from saying that married life can be even more lonely sometimes.
She was in love. She had that look. As she went to work on my Bert-esque unibrow, I waited.
A: how do you k–
K: know when you’ve met “the one?” you just know.
A: is it because they put up with y—
K: put up with your crap? Nope, “the one” thinks your “crap” is cute. It’s not a burden.
I don’t finish my sentence. It’s not a burden until now everyone has had to scrounge around 3 days in a row looking for clean socks. Hey! Those socks don’t clean themselves. What do you want here? Do you want me to make a million dollars or do you want clean socks? Don’t answer that!
A: We ended up at the ring counter.
K: You are SO gonna marry this guy.
A: Do you really think so?
K: Listen, it’s the right guy when you don’t have to try to convince yourself and everyone else that he is the right guy. You know if he is the right guy. You know it.
I think he’s the right guy. You just know it.
Then you come home and your right guy says, “Nice haircut. You look like a Charlie’s Angel.” And you know he doesn’t mean Farah Fawcett.
But you love him anyway.