Dear Diary

loveVirginia Hart4 Comments

dear diary


Dear diary,

I got calligraphy ink on our couch this week. Ugh. Ugh not in the sense of oh-my-gosh-our-precious-couch-whatever-will-we-do because let's be honest, we will likely donate it to the streets of Chelsea one day. Ugh in the sense of I need more space...specifically, an art space. With a door. That I can shut. And an art drying rack that doesn't cost hundreds of dollars. I have delayed a few of my personal projects at the printing studio entirely because I was waiting to sell out of some of my current stock to make room...which I just have, thank goodness, but that's so silly. I feel limited and I hate feeling limited. And now I'm going to stare in a mean grimace at that stupid little ink blot that even my trusty Tide stick couldn't remove. Again, ugh.

A few times recently I've said out loud that I think I will be ready to leave the city soon. Relatively speaking, of course. Soon could be a year or two. Or more, who knows. But I said it out loud! ...even though I'm not entirely sure I believe myself. Am I just faking it? Being all, Psh! Who wants to live here? when deep down I'm terrified to ever leave? New York City is such a bizarre place to live. It's both absolutely incredible and painfully difficult. I am so far away from family. I seriously hate that part. But I feel so connected to it now and it feels very much a part of my identity. I can't imagine loving a city more and wonder how any place will ever compare. But if I'm completely honest with myself, I can't imagine a longterm future here. I look ahead and it's blank. Which makes me sad, really. And I wonder who I will become when I leave. My identity will shift. I will hear someone else tell me that they live here and I'll be that girl interrupting to tell them how I lived here, too, for a long time -- and will likely divulge my specific addresses just so they believe me and just so I still feel connected. And ya know, cool.

Patrick's family gave me a personalized hanger for my wedding gown that says my future last name.  It was one of a few extremely thoughtful gifts they gave us (they are amazing) but that one? The second I saw it, I had to bury my face in my hands. I've had a few moments these past few weeks like that one where it all hits me - in big and little ways - that I get to marry him. It hits me every time he makes me belly-laugh. And a simple moment of looking across the room, catching him already looking at me. Or when he attempted to help me shot-gun my first beer at a wedding on Saturday (yes) and despite what I thought was a stellar stance,  it went ALL over my dress. And there we were, in college again. And when he held my hand during take-off during our flight home even though I was half asleep and probably doing my oh-so-attractive nodding off routine. And when he played a song he's already chosen for our first dance. And I got chills. And when I get all stress-y wondering where we'll get married and he tells me it could be in a Walmart parking lot and it will still be the best day ever. And I immediately calm down. And when I walk into the bathroom and see that he's taken out every.single.object. from underneath the sink & medicine cabinet to retrieve a single Band-Aid and I want to shake him for the mess he's made but just go into the other room and snicker to myself instead. It all hits me. In both big and little ways. ♥