Anyone else every get that feeling when you hug someone and you’re just like “why haven’t I been doing this forever”?
And then you realize that you weren’t a liar, but more of an optimist with a relationship.
Until you accidentally stumble upon your best friend spilling his guts to you. And then you feel like a liar, but only because you know that’s where you ought to be.
Well at least I can stop lying to myself.
Here’s to the boy who called me mom when I convinced myself that my ex got me pregnant.
The boy that put me to sleep when my head wouldn’t let me.
The boy that rubbed my back as sodexo ruined his toilet.
The boy that accidentally kissed my forehead when I left that February.
The boy that moved me into my single, but didn’t think to leave the big stuff out in the hall.
The boy that calls me Hauss.
The boy that refuses to hear the negative Nancy.
The boy that won’t let me date another Russian.
The boy that Momma already loves.
And the boy who can’t fry eggs.
I think I like that boy.