It’s Sunday afternoon. I’ve got six weeks off from school, thanks to COVID. My new boyfriend stayed up all night playing video games while I slept in his bed. Now, I am watching movies all day while he sleeps in my bed.

I think this is love. Like, maybe the real thing?

He brought his dog with us to my house today to meet my dogs for the first time. They sniffed each other for awhile and sort of played together. My big dog slobbered all over his little dog. My little dog humped his little dog. Now, they’ve each settled into their own space on one of the beds and couches throughout the house.

It’s a quiet house. You can hear the television. And if you listen closely, you can hear his little dog snoring. But nobody’s shouting or angry or mean. It’s peaceful.

If you try to wake up my new boyfriend, though, he’ll get grumpy. So. Better to just go ahead and let him sleep.

His high-school-sweetheart-first-love ex girlfriend and my oldest, dearest, best friend learned of the nature of our relationship a few days ago. I wasn’t prepared for this. Neither was she. She’s very angry with me and likely won’t want to talk to me or hang out with me for a significant amount of time now. I imagine she feels betrayed. This makes me feel sad.

He makes me feel very happy, though. He makes me feel connected to somebody. I like having him in my house. I like being in his. He makes me feel seen and heard. He makes me feel curious, too, about him and about love. He makes me wonder and hope about what a loving, lasting, peaceful relationship might be like. He makes me wonder if I might actually get to have that in my life.