today is my one-year anniversary with dylan.

I wish I could put something here as evocative and perfect as Blake's poem for Lee, but I come up empty-handed.

So I put this here, which I wrote about Dylan before we began dating, instead:

how is it that i feel your kiss on the top of my head as i curl up in bed?
why is every waking moment spent thinking of you?
what have i done that perfect nights like this have become a part of my life?
how could it be that you could truly be over her?
why do your hugs melt me down to the core?
what cologne do you use for it to still be swirling in and out of my thoughts even days later?
how can someone so amazing as you really, truly like me?
why do i suddenly find myself completely absorbed with how you see me?
how can i possibly deserve this?

i love you as a best friend
but i like you as so much more.

It's peculiar, to see that and look back at my life then in comparison to my life now.


I remember being overly loud around you. I remember sitting just close enough to share a blanket, but not to make contact. I remember finally making contact: your warm shoulder, our fingers accidentally catching.
I remember accidentally telling you I liked you, because I didn't want you to think that I didn't.
I remember saying that yes, I would go to the dance with you.
I remember kissing you, shaking with fear.
I remember flipping my claddagh over at a buffalo wild wings in louisville.
I remember sitting in class, dwelling on the thought of our relationship and wondering how anyone ever focused on anything, how they weren't absorbed with the thought of their loved one.
I remember getting used to kissing, feeling inadequate.
I remember getting better at kissing, going to the drive-in to prove it.
I remember getting the text that said I Love You, and I remember saying it in my car in your driveway on a Wednesday night.
I remember seeing you dressed up as Aladdin for me.
I remember being terrified at Christmas, how I called you and called you and called you from my lonely hotel room, and how you always picked up.
I remember sharing my first New Year's kiss with you, sharing the moment with Blake and Lee.
I remember making pasta and watching the Emperor's New Groove with you and your parents for Valentine's Day.
I remember having our first fight, and how I couldn't concentrate on anything the whole night.
I remember having our second fight, and how I was so mad and hurt and I don't know what for three days, and then I just wanted you back.
I remember writing our fighting rules at Moe's, back to normal.
I remember seeing you every day at the beginning of the summer, reveling in our newfound time.
I remember feeling like I was being stabbed in the middle of the chest while we sat in your car because I knew how much I was going to miss you while I was away.
I remember missing you, rereading your letter, sleeping with your shirt on my pillow. Anything to not hurt.
I remember having our third fight, resolving it, and then it exploding into something much bigger than either of us expected. I remember being numb, crying any time I thought about you, calling Blake or Conor or Katie or Michael to get my mind off of you. I remember posting angry blogs and not talking to you for a full five days.
I remember resolving our third fight, being better than ever.
I remember laying on a blanket in the field behind your house, high on our bliss. How empowered I felt.
I remember spending every waking moment with you until school started.
I remember missing you in my classes, all over again.
I remember dreading our anniversary, because I had nothing to give you.
I remember painting what I feel when I think about you, playing "Safe Ride Home" on repeat until I was done.
And now, I remember yesterday. I remember your picking me up, having trouble with the music player as we drove. I remember planning on taking you to the world peace tree and then to Moutoux park. I remember missing the turn. I remember driving up to Haubstadt, just for the hell of it, and then making a rash decision to stop at Mayse Market for grape soda and chocolate chip cookies. I remember finding the beautiful Moutoux park, calling it our own. I remember walking the short bridge that led to an unexpected body of water. In the middle of industry, oasis. I remember taking your hand as we walked back across the bridge, noticing a gold glint on your collarbone. I remember reaching out to the glint, unveiling my present too early as you watched dumbfounded; "you found it." I remember tucking it back where it was, giving it back for you to give it to me. I remember driving to the shady area, and making you sit with your eyes closed on the blanket. I remember when you opened your eyes and saw the colors; "what's it say?" and taking it in closer. I remember feeling the weight of the lockets on my neck, getting used to it. I remember my skirt ripping, and your trying to fix it; the car driving by with honks and cat-calls, thinking we were doing something much less innocent. I remember not caring. I remember leaving the funny note on the windshield of that horribly parked car, playing dots until the death, taking the note you wrote on the receipt and tucking it in my locket: my keepsake. I remember buying henna, walking by the river, sharing starbucks. I remember making the henna and deciding to cuddle instead. I remember waking up at 12:30 and pulling you back into my arms to fall asleep again, Gitsy nestled between our knees. I remember waking up in a frenzy at 2 am, your needing to get home. I remember kissing you goodnight, a happy-one-year-anniversary kiss, on my doorstep. And I remember curling up into bed with a smile on my face, the happiest and most comfortable I had been in a long time.