Meet the Sullivans
We did it — Someone met the family, the family met Someone, and the weekend just faded off into happy memories, sunsets, wine, laughter, and relaxation.
I’ve never (in my adult life, anyway) brought someone home. I felt like it could easily be a scene from a rom-com: The Sullivans are kind of a crazy lot as it is (I think every one of us has ADHD), and the whole thing felt like I was living someone else’s life. But it’s really MY boyfriend, and MY family, and MY awesome life. It’s slightly surreal.
We had easy, breezy, dock time (happy hour by the water); we played inappropriate games with the family and laughed ourselves silly (Cards Against Humanity), and Someone and I swam, drank, ate, smiled, and relaxed. The parents majorly approve, and the six of us threw around a ball in the surf for hours, never tiring. It was a blast. It was everything I had imagined a “homecoming” would be, and more. Someone felt like a part of the family that had simply been missing before.
(Whoa, did I just type that? I think I’ll change the subject now…)
I’ve somehow been on my summer break for one week already (!?) and I’m just getting into the relaxation groove. Somehow the anxiety from the last few days of finals and exams carried over; I couldn’t shake the pit-in-my-stomach, stressed-out frazzled feeling.
But here I am, back at the shore. I’m alone, reading Reconstructing Amelia, and hanging out on the beach by myself. The extroverted part of my soul still needs about 1 day every month to recharge and get settled, and I’ve got it. The family joins me tomorrow, and Someone is coming back Saturday for one last hurrah. And then, GUESS WHAT? I am meeting his parents, at his shore house, next week.
Now if we could get the people on TV and radio (and at Target) to stop saying the three words I hate the most—BACK TO SCHOOL—I’d be perfectly happy. Because all I want to do is live in this moment, right here, right now. Won’t you join me?