I loved that. I loved the simplicity, the directness. I loved being detached from a label that would immediately categorize us, define us, stereotype us--a label that has been rendered cheap and shallow in a society rampant with so many disposable dating relationships.
It couldn't last forever, of course. Though in public we held hands under pillows or blankets to avoid interrogation from our friends, we could only maintain the illusion of mere friendship for so long. And the world will make names for us if we don't make our own--and the names the world gives come all too often from incorrect assumptions and far-flung conclusions.
So on October 23, 2013, after a day of circular discussions around the issue, Danny asked me to be his girlfriend.
I didn't respond for a long time. I think I just sort of curled into his lap and wrapped myself in silence like a blanket, a shield against the shadowed monsters that lurked in the night.
I was afraid. Not of a lifetime of loving him, or being loved by him. That didn't frighten me, anymore.
I was afraid of moving too fast, of ruining this unexpected miracle that had fallen from heaven into my lap.
I also feared the wave of undesired attention I knew would result from declaring myself to be no longer single, the spotlight of excitement and drama that would fix on me like the lidless eye of Sauron once I became a significant other.
(As if you need to be in a relationship to be significant. Our culture is truly unforgiving to singles.)
Finally, I murmured, "If you're sure, then I'll say yes."
"That's a smart answer," he said. He corrected himself. "Not smart. Wise."
(Still, he never did say if he was sure.)
But I didn't object when my dad referred to Danny as my boyfriend. And a few weeks later, after being lovingly pestered by various friends about when we were going to make it "Facebook official," we updated our respective social media sites. I called or emailed close friends and family so no one would be caught off-guard.
We took pictures of ourselves together. We held hands. We blushed when people told us we were cute, or sickening.
Yes, we were in love. And now, everyone knew.
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