a year February 10, 2010

In a short time, we will have been apart a year. Four seasons. I have no idea who you are now, what you like and the places you go. I don’t know where you work or how you spend your time. I don’t know what is important to you or where you want to be in a year.

Since we parted ways, I have moved twice, started school, acquired a kitten, lost a job, and gotten married. I have experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows of my life. And I did it all without you. I rode the waves, and through them all I have missed you. More times than I would like to admit, I reached for my phone, wanting so badly to call  you and share something big. But I resisted. I reached out once and you were not open, so I have learned to let you go.

Letting you go has been harder than I ever thought it would be. You drove me nuts and I was wraught with worry about you. But I loved you and told you everything. I never felt the need to censor myself or worry about your judgement. You went on vacations with me, rocked out at concerts with me, moved three times with me, and held my hand in the emergency room. But you also kept things from me. You felt weak next to me and so you wouldn’t tell me what you needed to.

This year I have learned more and grown more than I ever have in my life. You feel a million miles away now. But I won’t lie, every so often I see a picture or think of something and I miss you all over again. But now, I am stronger. I don’t need you, that person to support me and eat ice cream with me and cry on my shoulder. I always thought you would be standing next to me when I promised myself to the love of my life, but you weren’t. You didn’t even want to be there at all.

I don’t need that security blanket that came with the term “best friend”. I can safely say that I am best-friendless and I am ok. My husband is more than a best friend, but I am a strong believer in female friendships. I have gone a year relying on myself for that female voice. I have faltered, yes. I have waffled on decisions I wish I could get your input on. What wedding dress looks best? What should I do about this problem? What do you think about this issue? Where should we eat?

But that’s ok, because now I automatically ask myself those questions, feel excited and sad on my own without needing to share those feelings.

I miss you, and that’s ok.

about C is for Carrie October 22, 2009

Me, Carrie – I am a twenty-something newlywed, living in a medium-sized college town in the Southeast. I work at home, where I live with my darling Husband, our two pups and one kitten (who has no tail).

Things I love (in no particular order):

Food. White wine. Husband. Live music. Baking. Art. Celebrity gossip. Reading. Jewelry. Shopping. Online shopping. Makeup. Clothes. My closet. Animals. Camping. Sailing. Food Network. Bad TV. G chat.

Things I hate: Onions. My apartment. Heights. Fake friends. Lack of originality. I am sure there are more…

Why C is for Carrie? Although I love SATC, it is not a reference to Carrie Bradshaw. Carrie is/was my middle name, and I miss it! I loved my initials but wanted to change my name when I got married and kept my maiden name as my middle name. Le sigh.

What this blog is about: my ramblings related to my life, being a newlywed, attempting to be domestic, hopefully buying a house soon, and whatever else occurs to me.

Also, this blog has a sister…C is for Closet. Closet is my blog related to all things style/fashion/shopping, etc. Check it out if you feel so inclined!

Once Upon a Time September 29, 2009

Once upon a time (does a year ago count?) there was a girl. This girl had walked out of a stagnant soul-crushing (yet safe and easy) relationship, into the bright and scary world of singlehood. Finding herself in all the wrong places (read: bars with inappropriate men) she thought she would dip her toe into the world of actual dating, so she signed up for eHarmony. She wasn’t really ready for a relationship, and definitely not ready to “settle down” (cue ominous music), but she figured a little practice communicating with sober men, while she was sober, couldn’t hurt, could it?

On her second day of online dating, she received a profile. She didn’t think a whole lot of it. She was still enjoying her freedom and youth, and in fact was a little overwhelmed with the idea of men in general. But the man from this profile sent her a message. He was a dog lover, vegetarian, music lover, coffee lover, and dental hygiene enthusiast just like herself. And he was tall. And very smart. He was, in fact, everything she had listed off to her best friend in a joking manner when asked what she wanted in a man. Of course, no man could actually be all these things…or could he?

So, they met. For coffee, of course. Then they spent more time together. The texts were frequent, the conversations sublime. The boy, however, would not kiss the girl. She wanted him to, but she was far too much a lady to make the first move. So she waited. And waited. One night, after dropping her off at her door, he came up behind her and called “wait!”. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, and he kissed her. It was magical. The second time he kissed her, her foot popped and she knew she was in trouble.

All through the winter they laughed and made plans. They talked of weddings, children and houses. They discussed rings and jobs. Every day they fell deeper and deeper in love. February came, and after a day of snow tubing the girl asked the boy if he would live with her. He agreed, and to her delight they began apartment hunting. They counted the days until their lives would merge, and they would share each day together.

One Thursday night in April, they joking brought up getting married at the courthouse the next day. The boy had always told her he wold go with her anytime and marry her, no reservations. She had always told him that she would marry him if he proposed with a twist tie. The talk turned to serious, and the boy got down on one knee, with a little blue twist tie made in to a ring. The girl said yes. Deciding to give it an extra week, the boy and the girl made plans. A witness was located, and wardrobes were chosen. Times were set for the Justice of the Peace and a quiet dinner together.

They stood in a run-down old house with a sign outside advertising “notary public. Weddings performed” and promised their lives to each other. Now they live as a family, the girl, the boy, their 2 dogs and one kitten (with no tail). They still dream of the future and what it will hold for them, and the kisses still make the girl’s foot pop. With a little luck, they will live happily ever after.