I'm starting to wonder if D exists only in my imagination.
Today we went to lunch, went shopping and on the way back to my apartment we were discussing our plots to run away. He wants to go somewhere tropical. My latest idea is to go to Wyoming.
"Why in the world did you pick Wyoming?"
"Cause... I could have a farm. With horses. And sheep! And alpacas!!"
"And you would make yarn from them?"
"Yes, I would."
"Hmm... this could work. We could get a farm, get some sheep and alpacas-"
"And a goat or two. Just cause."
"Ok, and a goat or two. And we could set up a yarn farm. I'll bet we'd do pretty well."
"Yeah. You could shear the sheep and wash the shit out of the wool and I could do all the fun stuff with it, spinning and dying and knitting it. This is a good plan. I like this plan! Way better than running away to become hermits in Tanzania."
This is why I love him. He lets me have these idiotic little fantasies and doesn't squish my happy dreams. That and he called me earlier to tell me that he'd bought me this:
It's a CD player made to look like the Dead Man's Chest from the second Pirates of the Caribbean movie. The heart glows when you play music.
How many different types of awesome is that?