A Midsummer Night's Dream

The names in this post have been changed to protect the innocent.

“She’s just so cute!” Jarom couldn’t stop smiling yesterday as he told me of the butterflies swirling inside. An exasperated eddy of excitement gushed out of him as he questioned and wondered aloud. And then a sigh, “but why does she have to be 300 miles away?”

The tomato soup bubbled and popped as it began to boil. I quickly reached over to turn down the heat as I flipped a grilled cheese on the other burner and Harmony continued, “And then he just kind of grabbed my hand. It was really sweet and determined, but I probably wouldn’t be nearly as excited if I didn’t like him so much.”

Knocking. Incessant knocking. I rolled over and picked up my phone, then blinked hard to focus. 2:30 am. Who in the world was knocking at this hour? I slid out of bed and walked groggily to the door. I didn’t even look through the peephole, just pulled the chain-lock out of its place and turned the bolt to open the door. There stood my roommate with a grin so toothy I knew something was up. “What are you doing?” I dragged myself down the hall to follow her as she floated towards her bedroom. Bobbing her head from side to side as her eyes sparkled, the beginning of an explanation finally came. “Guess who held hands a cuddled with a cute boy tonight?”

You might think it’s more than I can handle, being surrounded by this cloud of summer romance and friends who find themselves neck-deep in sudden smit. But so far I have found it all quite enchanting. I even had to smile last night as I read a tribute to one’s new love in the form of a blog. If the hopeless romantic in me is forced to live vicariously, so be it. But allow the summer months pass as lifeless and dark as winter? I certainly will not.