build me up. (ON HOLD)

SIXTEEN

chapter sixteen
my little lover
december 22nd

_________

SCHOOL WAS FINALLY OUT FOR WINTER BREAK and it has been a breath of fresh air. I finally get to sleep in without worrying about class and show up to work on a few minutes after getting up. My work scheduled was relaxed, allowing me time to mosey around and enjoy the essence of what a break is for.

Relaxation.

Peter and I have been on a few dates since we kissed that day. Peter's been coming over for dinner, familiarizing himself with our Pitbull, Bammie, who has grown to adore him and even coming with me to visit my dad after work. Never in all my life had I seen myself with Peter. Maybe in my daydreams, but never thinking it would come to fruition. It almost feels as if I don't hold on tight he'll slip away again. Maybe that's why I yearn to hold his hand and touch him constantly, reassuring myself he is here with me.

For our first date, we went to a family-owned pho restaurant downtown. I had been there many times, but Peter convinced me to try something new, and to my surprise, I actually really enjoyed it. It was a beef stew with rice noodles and a bunch of chili oil and lime juice. To say I was in heaven would be an understatement. That day, we had a few glasses of plum wine and talked each other's ears off until we were kindly told to leave. In that moment I hadn't felt embarrassed but astonished at how easily we can talk to each other, and how quick time seems to fly. Towards the end of our date something urgent had come up with one of Peter's friend, abruptly ending the night. But as a parting gift, Peter kissed my cheek softly before apologizing and leaving.

That night I went home with a large grin on my face and butterflies tickling my heart. It was the first time in a long time my feelings for someone carried home with me and interrupted my sleep.

I enjoyed  being around him.

I enjoyed his nasally laugh, his forgetfulness, and his random encyclopedia of knowledge. The transition from us being friends to dating felt natural, and my feelings for him deepened every time we talked to each other. From the small touches on the middle of my back to the deep kisses we shared when tension rose, I questioned if I ever truly understood what it means to have a reciprocal liking in someone. Even when we would have tense disagreeable moments, we always came back and reassured each other that a disagreement isn't a setback but a show of our uniqueness.

Today, we have plans to go see the Christmas lights downtown with some of our friends after work. Since his apartment is near by, we figured we could end the downtown sightseeing with hot chocolate and a movie. As a backup plan, I packed an overnight bag. It wouldn't be the first night I'd stay at Peter's apartment, but it would be the first time sober.

My brother was out of town, and my mom was staying the night at my dad's rehab center, so naturally, I packed a bag in case I was persuaded to stay the night. Regardless, I was nervous but also curious about what the night held.

I had just hopped out of the shower and did my normal routine. My hair was a little messy today as my month-old twists had finally started to reach the end of their life, but instead of worrying about it, I threw on a thick stretch headband and called it a day. My face and skin was soft and moisturized and my lips were no longer chapped form the cold air. I've been taking extra care of my appearance, mainly in efforts to look and feel my best when around Peter. And for some reason, he brought out this deep femininity in me.

I have always been insecure about the way I dress. My mother at one time even asked me if i was a lesbian because I covered up my body, not realizing her child was going through the motions of coming of age and facing bullying. It took a while for me to appreciate the body God gave despite not have the financial means to dress it up in the way I imagined. Years after my mother's comment, I finally felt comfortable in what I wanted, slowly buying clothes that I feel good and more myself.