Happy.

Today is Sunday. I woke up with warm sunlight wrapping me, I yawned, stretched and relished the feeling of sleeping in. I watched Jared get up and get dressed for work, admiring his lean body and smiling at how lucky I am to get to wake up next to him every day. I laid in bed for a while, looking out my second story window at my neighborhood covered in snow, melting and pooling on porches and sidewalks. I finally rolled out bed, put on my favorite sweater and yoga pants, and made my way downstairs. I brewed coffee and fixed myself breakfast while Jared made a run to the store before work to get me a pack of smokes.

I kissed him goodbye and said I love you, and it felt sincere and real. I had my coffee and morning cigarette on the front porch while having a conversation with my roommate about his night before. Everyone left and I had the t.v. to myself for the first time in weeks. I watched shitty and frivolous fashion shows and makeover shows and snuggled with the puppy on our overstuffed, old, ratty couch while I was wrapped in a blanket.

Now I'm sitting here, wallowing in my happiness. Days like this, moments like these, they make me sincerely acknowledge how happy and content I am in my life. I realize how fully happy I am to have Jared in my life, and I appreciate that I don't have to question and  compare our relationship constantly anymore. I love him completely and I love so many things about our life together. I love having time to myself and feeling like a real adult with a day off. I'm truly starting to feel like a twenty-something, as I should because I am now a 22 year old woman. But for the longest time I just felt more like a teenager and less like a young adult.