What to even say?
So this is Christmas.

I skipped town this year to visit Ricardo's clan in California. A play-by-play, or even a highlights reel, would end up feeling long and boring, and the experience was anything but. I'll tell you about it in person some time. Suffice it to say that it was a learning experience in a number of ways, and I have come home definitely happier, hopefully smarter, and probably heavier.

The main thing I gained, other than the excess cookie weight, is the realization that I don't give Ricardo nearly enough credit. My insecurities make it easy for me to retreat into the idea that he is only mildly interested in me. Part of me will always be the sixth grader who wasn't invited to parties by the popular kids, and that aspect of my personality wants to see our relationship as something that I cling to desperately, struggling to hold his attention until he figures out what a clod I am. As it turns out, such beliefs are what make me a clod. The boy is head over heels for me, and it's a disservice to him not to acknowledge and appreciate that fact. He invested so much time and energy in me this week, and all because he derives genuine joy from sharing with me.

I didn't bring my laptop or charge my cell phone and I didn't make plans. I let him show me his hometown, his high school, his family and friends, his favorite places. He made me laugh when I was angry and sob with the intensity of our happiness. It was all unexpected and all perfect, even the times when we got grumpy and bickered. I generally hate writing sappy entries like this, but the exception must be made because he is exceptional, and I'm just starting to recognize the extent to which that is true.