Sunday mornings...

...are sometimes my favorite moments of a week. Last week, Sunday morning found me lying on the grass, sun dappling my skin as it shone through the tree leaves above me, my head on The Optimist's shoulder, one hand in his, and my other arm around The Scientist, who's head was resting on my chest. We weren't saying much, because nothing needed to be said. We were tracing lazy, delicate circles across one another's skin, running fingers through hair, gently kissing foreheads. After the emotionally charged night we'd just completed, it was the perfect come-down. In fact, it was very nearly perfect regardless of how the night before or any other night had been spent. It was one of those beautiful Colorado summer mornings, that powder-blue cloudless sky, sun warming us just as a gentle breeze rustled the grass and cooled our faces.

Perhaps this Sunday morning isn't as epically romantic or exceedingly perfect. But I still find myself very, very happy. I am the first one awake after coming back to my mother's from a very late night singing Karaoke and flashing back to last summer with Roomie. It's just myself and my cat, and we essentially have the house to ourselves. I've dressed myself in one of my boys' T-shirts, which hangs off my chest and just barely covers my ass, showing off just a little bit of my uncharacteristically blue underwear. Wearing this shirt, which belonged to P once, makes me realize that I have managed to end up with T-shirts (or a button-down) from every old lover, but have none from any of my current partners. I decide I need to change this. I will need to stealthily acquire shirts from my partners. And by stealthily, of course, I mean asking if I can sleep in his shirt, and then asking if I can keep it in the morning. I do love the way a boy's shirt smells like him. It's good for helping me to not feel so alone on those nights when I am, in fact alone.

But this morning, as I have the house to myself, I boot up my computer, and go straight to the playlist I created when The Optimist and I were together last. (Yes, I saved the playlist.) It's mostly pretty acoustic songs, with a mild dose of mush thrown in there. I remember making the list as he and I were lying in my bed and him (at least humoring me) that we have strikingly similar taste in music. In any case, all of it is beautiful. And it makes me happy. And so I decide to start dancing around my empty house. In my T-shirt and underwear, dancing to Matt Nathanson and Joshua Radin and Jay Brannan and Angels & Airwaves and Regina Spektor and Citizen Cope.

And I realize how exceedingly happy I am. Without complications. I am, very simply, very content. I have been so incredibly lucky as of late with several things. Some of them are material and haven't quite materialized yet, so again, I'm hesitant to jinx them. But it's so much more than that. I am realizing how incredibly lucky I am to be surrounded by so many beautiful, giving, incredible people. I honestly believe I am one of the luckiest people in the world. I have so much love in my life - already more than I think most people ever get to experience. And, as I wrote about earlier this week, I feel like it's even warranted. That doesn't feel like being conceited, though. It really feels like, now that I'm so keenly aware, I want to make sure I appreciate it and let these people know how wonderful they make my life.

See? Look at how mushy I've become. It all started with last weekend, with The Scientist, and yes, meeting The Optimist. I do blame some of this optimism on him - it's definitely contagious. But all of my friends, my New Family have had a part in it. C certainly had a major role with her revelation. And it's just kept spreading. The Pilot is coming to visit next week. I've come to some conclusions about other people in my life and am able to be so much more zen about it. Not hoping to find things from partners that they simply aren't able to give me. And just being able to appreciate them for that.

And there will be some changes. All of this optimism has come with a new kind of self-awareness on what makes me happy, and what it feels like to be so happy. I will be moving away from those things that don't make me happy, spending more time around and doing those things that do make me happy. And things are just going to keep getting better.

I'll close with one of those songs The Optimist and I both realized we love. Thank you, Ms. Spektor.