CAN I TELL YOU A SECRET?

You won’t tell?

Promise?

I got off work and had plans with Ashley. When I realized I was planning on being there hours ahead of time, I decided to do something I never do and, well, I. . .I went somewhere by myself.

WITHOUT TELLING ANYBODY.

I don’t know why I have that quirk – but I always tend to tell everybody where I’m going, at all times. Maybe it’s a trait my subconscious picked up when it realized I was directionally retarded, a safe-guard to make it so people could locate me when I’m stuck at the corner of Where the Crap is This and I’m Screwed. Because I pretty much feel that way when I even think about breaking down. I think the world is going to end and thank heavens my father made me put that 72 hour kit in my car and I’m grateful I never returned mom’s tent and sleeping bag because I’m all the sudden homeless.

(Breathe, it’s okay.)

But today I did it. I went somewhere far, far away without telling a single soul. Kind of like a date with myself, I planned on where I’d go, what I’d eat and what I’d do. And I stressed for .02 of a second about what I should wear before I realized I was already wearing it and couldn’t impress myself if I tried, and thanks to lasik I didn’t have to fuss with any makeup either.

I took photos on the drive and kept wondering why my photos were more blue on the camera than what I was seeing, and then I realized I was viewing life through rose-colored lenses.

No really.

I was.

Sidenote: Kevin bought me that necklace for Christmas and I haven’t taken it off since then because I love it and it reminds me of him.

There was the most beautiful sunset going on.

So beautiful that I almost skipped eating at my favorite place just so I could pull over and watch it. But Two Jacks Pizza called (okay, okay. I called them and ordered ahead so I could take it in my car with me, so nobody would see me eating all that food by myself and think I was a pig. Happy?).

And then I just drove, speeding on back roads with my hand out the window, screaming songs at the top of my lungs and wondering why I felt like the worlds greatest criminal. You’d think I’d done something illegal with all the adrenaline I had rushing through me at that moment. It was pure bliss.

It had been way too long since I’d just watched the sky be painted.

And twilight fall.

And night descend on the mountains I call home.

I drove until I found myself at Lincoln Beach boat harbor.

Then I snarfed my food and started taking photos. The lake was completely frozen but I was too chicken to walk out on it or even leave the warmth of my car.

But I was thinking of something tonight.

I’m used to being alone. For as long as I could remember, I’d take “me” time, where I’d turn off my phone and do whatever I pleased for a night. It usually involved strawberry frappachinos, bookstores, and countless hours at my moms house. I’d go visit my sister in Nephi all the time just for the excuse to have an hour to myself during the drive. But for the first time, being alone wasn’t fun. It wasn’t liberating, exhilirating, or exciting.

It was downright lonely.

I’m spoiled. Ever since I met Kevin, we’ve never spent a day – much less more than 12 hours – apart. That means for over 100 straight days, we’ve been constant companions, partners in crime going to auto shows for him and zoos for me. We always get asked if we get sick of each other, if we fight or need time alone. Trust me, I know what that point feels like, where after the first few hours with someone you want to pull out your hair and throw frying pans at their heads, and where I start daydreaming about my next break, my next “me” time.

We’ve never, ever hit that point (although I’m not naive enough to think that it couldn’t happen, but if it does we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it). Not when we first met and stayed up on IM until the early morning, not when we went to California and I was with him for five days straight. Not when we both have to drive to see each other even though we live four towns apart. He is my boyfriend, yes. But he is so much more than that. He is my best friend, my closest friend. He’s the one I turn to when I’m sad and the one who takes care of me when I’m sick. He does everything he can for me and still keeps trying to find a way to do more. He’s the only one I’ve ever believed when he tells me that I’m beautiful. He opens my door for me, texts me goodnight and surprises me by sending flowers to my work.

Essentially he is the epitome of what every girl dreams of dating when they’re little, and I’m lucky enough to have him.

And then I noticed something else.

A light.

A bright gold speck of dust on the other side of the lake that reminded me that’s where he’s at right now. A lake away from me, and I missed him. It’s not that I’ve lost the need for independence, it’s that I realized I don’t have to be completely alone to achieve that. He completes me, and I need him.

So I threw what was left of my food away, and drove back home where I belonged.

And true to form, he made time to see me late at night and bought me a donut.

A pink, heart-shaped donut.