Sometimes "We" Happens

DG and I wake late the next morning. We go to lunch. We run errands. We get him a new cell phone so we can communicate properly. We go to the store. We kiss in the parking lot. We hold hands as we walk. We say “we” a lot.

He goes into work late, showering me with hugs and kisses before he goes. And I sit there for a moment, thinking over the last 14 hours we spent together and suddenly I think I’m into something much more than I had bargained for. I couldn’t be a “we”. I was barely a recognizable specimen of an “I”. But I liked being a we. It felt good to be a we, especially with a him that was “normal”. No kids, no illegal activities, no gang/mob affiliation, a real job, aspirations of becoming a music producer, family values…what the hell was I getting myself into? This was crazy! I don’t date normal guys. Well, at least not as of late. Freak Mama wants to bitch slap me through the phone when I tell her. “It’s about time, loser!” I love how my friends encourage me so. “You have a new boyfriend!” She laughs and hangs up on me. Bitch. But is she right? How did this happen?! I’m not ready for this. Am I?

24 hours and counting. See, I don’t need MOB. I’m strong.