Dear Tumblr. I’ve worked myself to death over the last week, and still have a lot to get done tonight.  But I’m tired and need to procrastinate for just a little while. I’m in a sappy mood, and there’s a story I’ve been meaning to tell you for over a month now.  It’s just a little thing, I swear, and was so effortless that he may not even remember it happened. But it’s reminded me that this man has brought out a girly, feminine side of me that I’d fought off for years.  And that’s a good thing.

We were at a hotel.  Nothing romantic, just a cheap, dingy place—the tiny kind with the sink and vanity and everything in one room, bright 80s decor, a touch musty. Just a place to hang our hats for the night so we could attend an event early the next day.  It had been a long day and we’d just come back from an awesome dinner followed by a great time in a smokey dive bar, so I grabbed a quick shower before bed. I got out, we chatted about something inconsequential, he went back to watching basic cable on the tiny TV, and I went to the sink to dry my hair.

After awhile, I looked up to see if he’d fallen asleep, and our eyes met.  “What are you doing?” I asked.  His reply?  “Watching you dry your hair.  I never get to see you do it at home, you always shut the door.”

I was completely tongue-tied.  I have a lot of hair, so God knows how long he’d been watching.  This is the kind of stuff they put in romantic comedy date movies for girls.  I couldn’t have been any more blown away if he’d walked in with a dozen roses.  I think I replied with something brilliant like “Oh. Yeah. I shut the door at home because it’s loud.”  Or I might have made a silly joke about how he was “busted,” because he busts me all the time when I’m staring at him.  But inside?  Inside, I was thinking “I didn’t know they made men like this.  I moved nearly a year ago and he still likes me well enough to watch me dry my hair?  I am one lucky girl.”