The Second Greatest Saturday Ever (and some other stuff).

Apparently the 27th is a key day (see: June 27th’s post for further details).  So not that I think I’ll ever forget yesterday/today, but we all know how I am with the memory, so I’m writing this as a reminder (and maybe a little to gloat).

I left for Philadelphia on Thursday, after spending the prior week and a half making a point to see Stefan every single day.  Everyone said that’d make it more difficult when we finally did part ways, and it did, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.  So needless to say, when I left, I had intermittent bursts of minute-cries.  But I hugged my mom, packed up my cat, and headed southwest.

Fortunately, Thursday was a busy day.  I unpacked a majority of my boxes and then hustled to grab a shower before meeting up with my new cohort.  It was nice to get to see and interact with the people I will be seeing and interacting with for the next 4-5 years.  I paid too much money towards the bill, but I couldn’t not give a good tip, while I still have the cash at least. I also got a ticket for sheer stupidity.  Note to noobs–don’t listen to homeless guys about parking meters.  They can spot a foreign plate a mile away, and they need the money more than the meter.  So that $36 check will be the last money I spend for quite some time that is not a necessity (rent, utilities, school books, gas) or a very cheap beer.

That night was not an easy one.  I was too sober to forget about life or to fall asleep.  I drugged myself into unconsciousness to get through the first night alone in almost two weeks.  I woke up periodically throughout the night to note how loud buses are outside the window and that I had forgotten to pack a blanket (shout out to Elliot for lending me one yesterday!).

Friday, I woke up probably past noon and proceeded to put away all of the clutter I had accumulated on my wall ledge.  I also hung up all of my pictures, under the impression that a realtor was coming to check out the premises between 5:30 and 6:30 as per my landlord.  (I’m pretty sure they didn’t, but I can’t be certain.)  I then once again hustled to shower and head to Kajal’s to have some company on my adventures in La Salle-land.  She took me to get my ID card, then shopped with me in the school store and brought me to the clinic to show me around (we got in because someone was actually there, though they are generally closed on Fridays).  She also came with me to Comcast, to pick up my self-installation kits for cable & internet services (to two different Comcasts).  After I dropped her back off at home, I ran to Elliot’s for Taco Night and Water Ices on the Schuylkill.  He lent me Zelda for my Wii and a blanket, so I didn’t have to shiver the remainder of my nights here until next weekend.  Also, his tacos rock.

When I got home near 10, I talked to my mom for a few minutes and attempted to start on the whole cable & internet thing.  I didn’t get too far.  The modem worked, but I couldn’t get it to connect to my Mac.  The cable box…wasn’t given to me.  Yes, folks, I left Comcast without a cable box.  I had a second modem, for phone service, instead.  How I could have been so retarded so as to walk out of the building without a cable box is beyond me.  So I have to go back on Monday or Tuesday (or Wednesday, who am I kidding?) to exchange it.

But I was feeling rather down (day two – just as bad as day one), so I tried playing some Zelda, which wasn’t so bad until I kept screwing up one single task, so I gave up.  I texted Stefan to see what fun he might be having (masochist?), and he said he was doing laundry with his roommate and then potentially going to a late-night or all-night shooting range out east with his friend.  I did my best to be encouraging, knowing he’d really enjoy that, but being incredibly sad all-the-while.  He said he’d call when he got back later, and I was temporarily sated.

I played some Wii sports until I got tired of that, and then figured I’d finish putting together my coat rack and follow that up with some sappy-ass guitar playing.  I got as far as 95% done with the coat rack when my phone rang (near 1:30 a.m.).  Stefan starts going on about the moon, asking if I can see it from where I am.  I recalled there being an almost-full one recently, so I figured he was maybe on his way home from the range or something, but I made the joke that I was in a whole ‘nother country and the moon didn’t shine where I was.  But he said he was outside smoking, and I should go check out the moon, probably from the front, since the back yard is so limited.  I went outside to check it out, and poked my head out of the little indent of a porch I have.  Some guy was walking up the street, so I retreated back to where I was, but I couldn’t see the moon since it was obstructed by so many trees.  Next I hear, “you looked right at me, and didn’t even know it was me.”  And there he is.  On the phone, standing in front of me.

I can’t even explain what emotions crossed over me.  I think I yelped and stared for a while.  I giggled a lot, and just kept saying, “you’re here…”  I have never felt so ecstatic in all of my life.

We stayed up until 5 somehow (and he got that whole cable modem up and running) and then slept in until 1.  We then went to D’Alessandro’s for lunch (cheesesteaks with onions, mushrooms, whiz and hot peppers-yummmmmmy!).  He brought his metal detector to scour the yard, so I weeded (a gigantor trash bag full) while he detected for a few hours.  I cleared out half of the yard and he found a musket ball and some coins.  I still have half of the yard to clear out, so he’ll be able to look for more afterward.  After a couple of showers, we went to Acme and grabbed groceries.  We then figured out how to cross the Wissahickon train station to get to the diner/movie theater/liquor store and picked up some wine.  He made me a delicious meal of chicken marsala with pasta and poached pears for dessert, while I cleaned up.

After dinner, we basically lay in bed for hours, and it was glorious (the incredible massage helped).  Until, of course, 12 a.m. rolled around and he had to head back to NY for work tomorrow afternoon.

He left, and I came back inside and stared at myself in the mirror for a few seconds.  I fought back tears and then I took a deep breath and told myself “one day at a time,” and that five days isn’t very long (I’m going back to Long Island next Thursday/Friday for a few events).  But really, one day seemed like a lifetime.

I can’t put down too much about how I feel, because it seems unfair to post it publicly when we don’t really talk about it.  In short, though, I am my absolute happiest when I am with him.  To boot, he was amazing at making dinner, and I was impressed and floored at how he dealt with all of my crazy quirks.  I know it’s stupid, but I highly regard the way those interactions turn out, and this one went so exceptionally well.  The whole day did, really.  It was comfortable, and it was full of care and chemistry.

All right, Train, do your thing:

“I’m not in it to win it; I’m in it for you.
If it’s love, and we decide that it’s forever, no one else could do it better.
If it’s love, and we’re two birds of a feather, then the rest is just whatever.
And if I’m addicted to loving you, and you’re addicted to my love too,
we can be them two birds of a feather…that flock together.”

Yeah, I’m a sap.  Shut up.


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