If we’re to believe the New York Times, falling in love is as simple as answering 37 questions and then making direct eye contact. I read an article stating such in bed early one Monday (after hitting snooze twice) and decided that I believed it.
While I may not have fallen in love per say, I have become infatuated with someone based on their ideas, the way that they speak, their Tumblr even, without knowing much else. It should be noted that years ago, before my boyfriend and I lived in the same state we would talk on the phone for hours asking each other questions not unlike the ones suggested by the New York Times (that hasn’t changed).
He on the other hand, is not a believer. “Interesting, but I don’t think it’s that simple. Questionnaire, staring at each other, it’s all interesting… But there’s a time factor that more often than not is necessary. Also, the experiment doesn’t account for the physical side of things,” he typed in iMessage when I asked him his thoughts.
I wore shorts the other day. Lace shorts, without tights.
Hold on, wait.
So maybe, just maybe, I am a little excited about getting dressed and having a place to go again.
I hated for a minute that I got caught up in the hype of starting a New Year and the subsequent New Year, New Me attitude that follows.
You guys know I take stock in my life, evaluating what can enter a new year with me when it comes time to turn a year older, but this New Year’s Eve was weird.
So I may or may not be kiiiiind-of dating this guy.
I find him handsome, smart,
kind, important, hilarious, intimidatingly well-dressed and I hate to say this about men of color, but, articulate.
Here’s the thing.
It’s about that time for me, when I decide what I’m bringing with me into the new year. December is a very cleansing month for me. I try my best to let of anything that is no longer serving me (clothing, shoes, people, clutter in my space) to create room for the new blessings that I am expecting.
I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions but I am when it comes to my personal new year: my birthday.