things are just right.

i keep using the word perfect, but it's not really accurate.

what i mean, is things are perfect for me. if i knew what it was i'd like to think I would have arrived here years ago, but all I know is it suddenly fits.

A lot of it is Liam. Is us. How we fit so easily and are so seamlessly well, together. No matter what. Not in an every minute of everyday sort of way. But in a connected, comfortable sort of way. Because as he says, this is a sort of always and forever scenario. Not that we can ever know that for sure, but you know, as much as a romantic pessimist can believe. and god do i want to believe.

I used to think this sort of calm meant stasis. Somehow more boring or lame because it meant routine and settling and boredom. Meant doing things differently or changing what i do because I'd do couply things and be eaten by this entity known as 'us'.

But really it just means we are having adventures together. Same silly shit, same rough edges, but somehow completely and utterly new and better than ever because we are sharing it.

And part of me appreciates this now since we have settled into our new flat with its accompanying routine for two. And partly because we are on a romantic vacation in Bath, the city of Austen, walking down cobbled lanes and picnicking in the park.

And a lotly because we are going to meet the family soon. Not me going home, but us. being with them. for the first time.

I have never brought anyone home to meet my parents before. Not that I ever seriously dated, and not that any of them would have been worth the trouble, but still. It's a hurdle I am approaching rather late in the game, and I don't think it's to my advantage. My parents still act like this is some fling. Some nice boy I go on dates with and am using as a step in the growing up process. I think my being away has left them a little behind in the sara-development scale.

And I worry. That he'll be anxious. That I'll forget to tell Grammy he's a vegetarian and it'll be aweful. That my parents will be either that weird overly friendly 'aren't we young and cool' thing with the swearing and the bodily functions chat or the overbearing nun routine with grilling him and their weird embarassment about intimacy and the palava over who sleeps where. That what should be a joyous occasion (and frankly not primarily about us anyway) will be riddled with akward on all sides.

But I hope more than anything I can share how happy I am, and share how wonderful he is with my family and it's not weird.

Because I have never been happier. I could burst with joy and beam so much it almost hurts. And better than anything that has happened, is looking forward to the rest of it yet to come.

It's about the marriage, not the wedding as they say (no I don't remember who, I read it somewhere. shut up.)