the night of living vicariously

I had given E permission to wake me up whenever she got home last night. This was going to be the night that she told her crush, that she did, in fact, have a crush on him. I hoped she would come home brimming with happy news & wake me up to spread her happiness.

I woke up at 2:30 am of my own volition. I saw the light on in her room, which made me nervous for her. No happy news? She heard my half-asleep stumbling and found me. We sat on my bed and chatted. My fears were unfounded. They had a good night: E serving as goth subculture tour guide, driving around foggy southwest in search of a cemetary, etc. And E, being superbrave, told him of her crush. And they kissed some. And E was confused by that, telling me that she wanted clarity. I think that a kiss is a very clear message. If you kiss, it generally means there is some sort of shared affection . . . isn't that clear enough for now? She's leaving town in a week anyway. . . a bit of happiness and fun before she goes to save the world (or at least organize some Pennsylvanians).

I'm so happy for her. Our girl is overdue for a crush that pans out. I have forgotten the joys of vicarious love-drama. It is fun & about all the drama that I need right now.

And I get to tease her mercilessly. . .