Turn Your Face

Tuesdays

Nothing terrified me more than the idea of going back to school. From leaving my mom to just going back to the same place where I found out I would never see my dad again, being ready to go back to Chicago was at the forefront of my mind. I went to Dr. Ives independently at least twice a week to work with her through the root of my addiction and the trauma associated with losing my dad. Though not a cure-all, by the time Alison and I were driving back to Chicago almost a month later, I felt more at peace than I had since early May. I had done what I needed to do to feel okay, not great. But slowly I was feeling more like myself.

Knowing that we would have to spend two straight days in a car together, Alison and I had spent the past few days before driving back to Illinois apart. It gave me time to be with my mom and make sure she was as ready as possible to spend the next year alone. It gave Alison time to get her house ready for her renters again. But more than that, it made us giddy to see each other again as we started this new adventure.

Our new Streeterville apartment fell almost exactly between our two campuses, giving us both the ability to commute and still feel like part of campus life. Walking into our relatively sizeable one-bedroom apartment, I immediately turned to spin Alison in my arms. The disbelief on our faces was palpable. We had made it to a moment we had first dreamed of over a year prior. The smile on her face appeared to be frozen as though she was taking a picture. Capturing a moment to live on forever.

I wondered what she saw in me today. Past the dark circles from the exhaustion from driving. Past the baggy sweatpants and t-shirt I was wearing. Past my hair thrown up in a bun.

I knew what I saw in her. I saw the little touches of her that were for me. Typically, Alison DiLaurentis would have never allowed us to move a majority of our furniture. She would be focused on the perfection she needed to exude. But for me, she dropped the pretenses. She wore fitted joggers and a t-shirt she had half tucked in not to look too messy. Her ponytail was pristine, but she intentionally was wearing no makeup so that I wouldn't feel apprehensive about not wearing any. She was effortless despite every choice she made being with me in mind.

As I set her down, I asked for some insight on her smile, "What are you thinking about, lovebug?"

"We made it. To today. To this." She replied, rubbing her hands on her pants as if nervous while taking a spin around our newly remodeled kitchen.

I walked over to the wall near the counter and leaned against it just to stare at the light exuding from her, "I love the way you look at the world, Al. The appreciation you have for each moment. It helps keep me grounded."

She walked back toward me running her hands down my arms before linking our palms together, "Aren't you just the cutest thing in the entire fucking world?"

With my nose resting against hers I replied, "You may have told me a time or two, but it's part of my therapy, you know. We have to keep building belonging and connection. I can only do that if I'm vulnerable with you. I wanted to appreciate you, for everything. But especially how you love the little moments."

"Little moments with you will forever be the best. We have so many more memories to make, beautiful." She kissed me with purpose. It was brief but intentional. It left me wanting more. "But we need to get the car unpacked. We don't have the space saved for very long. I'll race you!"

After unloading the boxes from our car, Alison had to make two trips back and forth from our storage building to get everything up to the apartment. Other than a slightly torn teal couch that my old roommate and her boyfriend stopped by to bring up, our apartment was filled with only boxes as movers were coming later in the week to bring the rest of the furniture.