my other half

In Spanish, you don’t really say “you are my other half” You say “tu eres mi media naranja,” which is closer to “you are my half orange.” I love that. “You are my half orange.” You are a half of a citrus fruit, you are essential to my vitamin c intake. You are a food, or a meal, or a snack. I cannot function without you.

The night I asked her to be my girl we were both sick as dogs and in the library at like 11 at night. I walked my ass in the freezing cold with flowers determined to meet her there and make her mine. That was the most nervous I had been in a very long while. The closer I got to the building I started thinking how I had came up with nothing to say and it was completely out of the blue and my heart started racing ridiculously fast. I considered taking the note I had written and putting it in my backpack and just waiting, but the next thing I knew I was opening the door and saw her beautiful self sitting there waiting on me. As I handed her the flowers, my dumb ass couldn’t think of anything sweet to say but “how gay is this?” because people were around and I had gotten even more nervous. After that awkward moment, we seated ourselves and she read the note. My face was red the whole time, but she barely looked up from the note as she read it so I’m not sure if she even noticed. My heart was racing until she looked up and said yes. I’m not too sure what she sees in me, but I’m grateful she desires to be with me just as much as I do her. I’m looking through the pictures from that night and it feels good to reminisce on how good it felt to finally make things official with her. She’s slowly becoming one of the largest, and most favorite parts of my life. I’m treasuring her more and more as each day passes.