subject line: adventures and "us"

 
140091d9cdccf06d7ade4278e1aa2596_301-moved-permanently-world-map-black-and-white-clipart_800-457.jpeg

A hammock under the stars

You said ‘us’ tonight.
We were out hammocking under the stars, the chilly night air not slowing the warmth growing between us. We’ve talked for more hours than I can count at this point. Always the same circular arguments sprinkled between serious topics like God and death and love. I’ve never really liked sprinkles, but with you I don’t mind them because they are colorful and different each time.
We spent the first half of tonight running from cops and trying to find a safe place to bend the park rules slightly. I’ve talked to more park cops and normal cops in the past three weeks with you than my whole life combined. It surprises me how much I don’t mind that. I’m not a trouble maker; hell, I don’t even like conflict, but you are the kind of guy that pushes things just enough to keep it interesting. All of a sudden a simple drive around a neighborhood has a hint of danger, a touch of adventure woven into the ordinary.
We got to talking about weddings because we are at that fantastic age where all of our friends are getting hitched and starting their own lives. What a lovely time. I was joking about eloping and traveling the world afterwards. Maybe you’re just lying to try and be the guy that I want to see. But you agreed with every word.
Some reckless impulse made me tell you my dream wedding plan. I want to get a white skiing jacket and get hitched up on top of the mountain, with snow like confetti and the sun shining brighter than any diamond ever will. I want to snowboard down from that mountain with the love of my life and have that serve as our first great adventure, a prelude to a life of chasing the next mountain together.
But when I told you I wanted to be married on a mountain, you jumped in and said “and all our friends would ski down with us.” You said us. And the scariest thing is that commitment-phobic me didn’t even bat an eye. I talked over the awkward and acted like I didn’t hear a word. But I did.
I can see you in that black ski jacket, with a tie sticking out of the top like it was a fancy tux. I can imagine kissing you and tearing up the slope on the way down. I can picture us boarding a plane and taking off for Australia and South Africa and chasing each sunset together.
All because you said ‘us’.