ethan and i got away this weekend. it was really for only a day, but it was everything i needed.
the air on Saturday morning was cool and the sky was cloudy. we loaded his car down with our bags, grabbed some lattes, and hopped on the road to head down to Temecula.
we took the long way this time--not the dry desert highway we normally use. instead, we took the windy, two-lane road through the hills, with The Maine playing on his stereo as our background music. when we stopped on a hill overlooking the city, ethan took my hands in his, kissed me, and said, "i'm already having an amazing day with you."
my sentiments exactly<3
we got to old town Temecula around 11am. the day was SO gorgeous and as i held ethan's hand, i couldn't stop smiling him, telling him how happy i was to be there, to be with him. we walked around the Temecula farmer's market, eating fresh strawberries, and taking in the sights of all the fresh flowers and vegetables, the air sweet with the smell of fresh kettle corn. the rest of the day we spent wandering in and out of antique shops and thrift stores. i ended up with two $2 cd's and decided it was a miracle that i didn't leave with any of the gorgeous vintage suitcases i stumbled upon.
we had Mexican food for lunch, stopped at the Old Temecula Root Beer company afterward, then hopped in the car and made the 25-minute drive out to our favorite winery to pick up a bottle of raspberry champagne. the windows were down, old school Green Day played on ethan's stereo, and i don't think either of us could've been happier.
we got to our hotel around 6 that evening, watched the last half of Sherlock Holmes on tv, then slumped down in a big Chili's booth for dinner, exhausted from the day.
but i think my favorite part of the whole trip was that evening. ethan lit tea candles and opened our bottle of champagne while i put on the Judy Garland Pandora station.
champagne glasses in hand, ethan and i settled in next to each other and made a toast. "to new adventures and to having them together," ethan said. the perfect toast, in my opinion.
and the rest of the night, we spent dreaming. aloud. together.
i went to sleep that night, my belly warm from champagne and my heart warm from dreaming.
***
dreams are a funny thing because you don't think they'll ever change, and yet, they do. i'm finding that my dreams have been ebbing and moving and morphing in ways i never expected.
when i first started dating ethan, my dreams were of seeing the world. of traveling. of a life of non-stop adventure and exploration. my biggest fear was always that i would never get to see the world and all of the wonderful things in it.
that dream hasn't changed a whole lot. even now, when i watch Eat Pray Love, and she talks about her box of National Geographic magazine clippings, a part of my heart hurts as i ache for the same things she aches for. i ache for the world.
but the grip those dreams have had on me are less now. yes, i would love nothing more than to go to Israel and India and Switzerland and Italy and Spain and Bali and Paris.
but now, more than ever, i dream of America. i want to listen to music in Nashville and see the city lights in Times Square and stand at the foot of the mountains in Alaska and experience the culture of the city of Austin. i want to drink coffee in Portland and i want to look out from the space needle in Seattle. i want to raft down the Grand Canyon and i want to stand at the bottom of the Eiffel Tower in Las Vegas. i want to go back to Independence Hall in Philadelphia and see the Declaration of Independence in DC. i want to stand on the battleground of Gettysburg and i want to ride a buggy through Amish country.
i always thought that America could wait until i was old and gray, but this country, this homeland of mine, is what i dream of now.
stranger than that, though, are my dreams about a home, about family.
only months ago, i was telling my mom that i thought marriage and children were bondage. now, i'm dreaming of being married. surprisingly, not even the wedding itself. but just being married. creating our home together. of having a little house on a big piece of land. of sheer white curtains with the sunlight streaming through and drinking sweet tea on the porch, while watching the sunset together. i dream of having my own garden, of getting my hands and knees in the dirt to grow my own vegetables and herbs. i dream of checkered tablecloths and slow dancing on the hardwood floor in pajamas. i dream about Christmases--of snow-covered pine trees and white lights and the smell of cookies and cider in the kitchen. i dream about living down the street from my mom and stepdad, and being able to walk over in the evenings, just to say hi. especially when i have children. i imagine them running into their grandparent's home, screaming and jumping into their arms.
and that's what's even weirder--that i'm dreaming about children. i dream about what it will be like to hold that little life in my arms and i know i helped create it. i imagine my babies laughing. or when they grow older, playing in the mud with my boys and taking them fishing. or brushing my daughter's hair and holding her hand while we cross the street.
i know this is all glamorized--that husbands will let you down and houses will need fixing up and i might not be able to grow a single thing in my garden and that my children will scream and cry and drive me nuts. but still, something in me wants all of it.
and there is so much more i dream about. about learning how to play acoustic guitar and finally getting back into piano. about buying an old record player and vintage suitcases. about taking vacations to the mountains--drinking coffee on the porch in the morning, while the sun rises.
what's hard for me is reconciling these with all the other dreams i have. the thousands of versions of myself--of the person i am and the person i want to be.
there is the part that still dreams about having a quaint loft in San Francisco, where i'll have friends over to drink wine and eat cheese and listen to jazz and be oh-so-cool.
another part of me still dreams about being 24-going-on-16--of putting big blonde highlights in my hair and getting my nose pierced and wearing bandanas and going to shows and never going to bed earlier than midnight.
then, there's the world traveler part of me. that person looks like a girl who lives in cut-off shorts and t-shirts and knows how to navigate airports and find treasures off the beaten path.
part of me wonders if i should be heartbroken that i will probably never be able to be all of these girls i dream about. but what this weekend made me realize is that nothing is stagnant. people change and life changes and dreams change and they become pieces of who we are and they move our hearts and propel us forward.
i didn't tell ethan any of this stuff on Saturday night. but what i did tell him, as we faced each other and i leaned up against his knees, is that i want a life that's slow and meaningful. yes, i still want to travel and dye my hair wild colors and have a loft in San Francisco. but i also want to separate myself from the madness in this world. i would love nothing more than to have a small house with a big family and an even bigger Love to surround us in all of it.
that's what i'm dreaming about these days, and even if none if it ever comes to pass, these dreams are still shaping my heart, helping me to find places of contentment and joy, even on the urban streets of southern California.
***
ethan told me on the phone last night that he loved looking at me this past weekend. "you looked so happy," he told me.
i know it was from being with ethan. he gets me like that these days, warming me to the tips of my fingers and my toes. holding his hand still gives me butterflies as crazy as ever.
i think the warm sunshine did it, too. and the antique shops and the taste of fresh strawberries and the slow, stillness of that little old town.
but none of it would've been complete
without a little bit of dreaming.
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