Back to the Boro

As I mentioned before I was planning of hitting up the Boro for a much needed visit.

Well, after a bit of frenzied packing on Wednesday I was out the door. I drove quick like a rabbit and got up to my town in almost no time (relatively speaking).

First stop on the agenda was to see the manly friend. Since he doesn’t actually have a home he’s being living in Country’s abandon (but still paid for) room. He also happens to be rooming with Cesar, so it’s almost like nothing’s changed.

Another thing that hasn’t changed is how the Minimalist and I act around each other. I found him sitting at his desk watching Deadliest Warrior (possibly my new favorite show, by the way). Out of courtesy to me he shifted his computer to face the bed and we lay down to watch it.

And that’s what we did the majority of the time I was there. It may seem boring, but it was anything but.

It was us in our own little world where tribes of Pacific natives fight Japanese monks and Michael Jackson, Lady Gaga, and Princess Leia watched.

Sounds silly, but it was marvelous. It was extra marvelous considering how nervous I was before my trip.

During a handful of conversations with ChiChi I realized that this was kind of big. Or at least, I thought it was big. My biggest fears?

First, that he would get tired of me. I didn’t expect us to be glued at the hip (and we certainly weren’t here), but I knew we would be spending a good amount of time together, which is something we don’t normally do.

Back in school we would see each other while out at night, I would follow him back to his room, spend the night, lounge in bed for a while the following morning, but I was usually gone by noon. That’s not exactly a massive amount of time.

So the time certainly had me worried. But, as ChiChi can attest, I had a bigger (far more absurd) fear.

My shampoo was going to be in his shower. And he was going to see it.

Believe it or not, that had me really freaked. Something as inconsequential as that may not seem worth a second thought, but to me it meant…commitment. It meant I was living with him, albeit temporarily.

And that made me nervous. So nervous that before I took my bag out of the car I asked him at least 3 times if I could invade his castle.

My fear of commitment is not new. Nor is it a secret. It’s big and real and ugly. And it rears its ugly head quite often.

Hence why the shampoo was a big deal at first.

As to be expected, though, it wasn’t a big deal in actuality. Nothing was a big deal. Nothing I was worried about came to fruition.

My little vacation was perfect. I hung out with the Minimalist, Cesar, Roomie, and a few other lovelies. Mr. Jackson even made an appearance the last night. The Minimalist even took me out on a lovely date (which I got to choose). And we all watched lots of Bob Ross.

And as usual whenever saying g’bye to the manly man, I left an hour later than I planned.

So once again my fears and apprehensions proved to be ridiculous (unlike the amount of clothes I packed, for once). And now I can’t wait until he comes to the Dirty Dirty.

Now that might be cause for concern.