Have you ever realized that your little day dreams and imaginings are never like the real deal? I was remembering when I was a teen imagine what it would be like to kissed, the first kiss, the grand first kiss of young love! I think I have disney to thank for filling my head with dramatic nonsense. My first kiss at 15 in the back of a movie theater, during the credits of the 6th Sense was not transforming like Beauty and Beast. I remember being the person to initiate the kiss. I put my head against his bony shoulder at this hideously awkward angle the whole movie because that is what a girl is  suppose to do. I cringed and flinched throughout the whole movie because that is what a girl is suppose to do (well I couldn’t have helped that even if I wanted to). I waited for him to move and get up at the end of the movie. He didnt move and neither did I. Neither one of us wanted to miss an opportunity, but neither one of us wanted to begin something that the other wasn’t ready for, and neither one of us knew how to talk about it.  So we waited as the lights came on. As people filed out. As the cleaners waited at the back of the theater. My neck still at that awkward angle. His bony shoulder still jutting into my ear. His arm, which had long since lost all feeling, still hung about my shoulder. Finally I looked up at him and just kissed him! His tongue reminded me of a moist slug. I think there was some popcorn still in his mouth. And I definitely was not swept off my feet. But I did it! I had kissed a boy and the sense of accomplishment was accelerating.  His mom’s minivan was parked outside the theater as we came out. I climbed in the back and he in the front. His mom chatted with us as I relived the kiss. Not what I imagined, but not entirely bad.

I remember a couple years later another boyfriend and I were holding it together through a long distance relationship. I would try to imagine what it would be like if he lived closer. If he lived in the dorm and he would come over at night to share a pizza with me. If we lived in the same city and he would take me out for dinner. We could go on dates or casual movie afternoons together. He would come over on Tuesday night and again on Saturday and we would have the same friends, and have fun every weekend. I had such romantic imaginings of us and how all our problems of distance would be solved if we just lived in the same city. One day we did live in the same city. And we spent every night with each other, your place or mine darlin’, or rather, your room or mine. He would lay on my bed and work on his laptop while I sat at the desk and my roommates prattled on in French just outside my door. We camped out in my room leaving only for nourishment or quick conversations with the roommates. It was filled with awkward moments and desire to just get back to our room and just be us. At his place we would barricade ourselves in his room to escape his roommate’s horrible cat smell and dirty apartment. I would spread out my books, papers, laptop all over his mattress about an inch off the floor. He would sit at his desk across the room typing and clicking away. My imaginings were far more romantized than the reality of our life traveling between our two apartments. In my romantic thoughts I neglected to imagine the homework waiting for both of us, the rommates annoying us, the lack of funds to go out with. We worked on the bed, we ate in the bed, watched movies in bed, and slept in the bed. His room became our whole apartment. We fought, we laughed, we conversed all in that little room over looking the street. It was a crash course in get to know yous, even though we had been together for years before hand.

And now we live together. We have three whole rooms to ourselves! We have painted those rooms and made them our own. We are now expecting and have a little one two months away from being born. We can image our life with him, but I am sure that the reality will be far from the imaginings we can concoct on our own. There will be things we can’t imagine, beauties and frustrations that cannot be foretold. Whatever dreams our minds come up with will pale in comparison to the reality that awaits us. It may be the awkwardness of a wet slug that awaits us, or the novelty of being thrown together every waking moment that will greet us, but there is something unimaginable that is  there for us to discover. A dream whose reality is so very different I just can’t create it in my head.


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