my essay

This summer I was invited to spend the weekend at my boyfriend’s lakehouse in Vermont. I liked feeling spontaneous and independent. After all, I had just turned 18 and was quite anxious to respond to my parent’s hesitations by saying, “Now, I am an adult, I can do what I want.” I was looking forward to getting away for just three days. Relaxing and napping lay in my near future. Oh, the romance.
I got back from work on Friday afternoon, packed my bags and said my goodbyes… Mom returned from her errands but I was still there. Stewart made his galliant arrival shortly after. And so I said my goodbyes again and set off on my romantic getaway. In other words, he was late. But to no avail, I was a grown woman and had learned to deal with these trivial inconveniences of life. How dare I ask for an apology! He was amazing, hardly perfect may I add, but who is. He was taking me to his summerhouse in Vermont and I didn’t even have to pay for gas! I got in the car, bit my toungue, and took a short nap. When I awoke, we were in Vermont. It was beautiful. The mountains were high enough to puncture the few clouds in the sky. At that moment he touched my hand and said sorry. In an instant I forgave him. I forgot about the hour which I had spent waiting at my door, looking out for his car, with a melancholy expression plastered on my face, the time wasted which I could have spent that watching re-runs of Saved by the Bell. It was as if he was up to bat with one strike and then he hit a home run! Stewart was back in the game, and I was ready to have three days of peaceful bliss.
The next morning I awoke around eleven. When I opened the shades I saw Stewart mowing the lawn. I went down stairs and there was eggs and bacon on the table! I don’t eat red meat and that I certainly wouldn’t dream of eating those chicken abortions, I thought he knew that? It’s the thought that counts! So I wasn’t exactly fine dining but who cares? I had a boyfriend who mowed lawns!
We spent the next few days taking walks around the lake, exploring the old farm town, and swimming in the evening. We picked our own snap peas at this quaint little farm alongside the road. The next night we bought chicken breast and attempted to grill outside. It was the best blackened chicken I had ever tasted.
The Vermont sky was unlike anything you have ever seen. You could see shooting stars every minute. The lights of New York City did not pollute the skies as they did in my hometown. As I looked at the stars on my last night I thought to myself, I had a great time, but I’m ready to go home.
It was an early start the next morning. There were five hours of open road ahead of us but I was only a short nap away from home. When we got into the car he stared blankly at the steering wheel. He waited a few seconds to reach a dramatic climax before asking if I could drive… He was tired. It took me nearly five minutes to back out of his driveway. I had never driven such a beast. His Dispatch CD caused him to drift slowly to sleep while it caused me to be driven slowly insane. We had listened to his music all weekend, granted I didn’t bring any of my own, but how much “chill” music can one take. The scenery, which was once beautiful, looked horrendous. The surrounding mountains were now contributing to my claustrophobia. As I looked over to Stewart, his head nodding up and down, my foot pressed harder against the ignition. I wanted to be home!
When he awoke, he offered to drive, with a half an hour left. He could read me like a book, I hated that, and he knew I was annoyed. Five minutes later he pulled over to an ice cream parlor, and said, “Ice cream, my treat!” It was as if he had one strike but than hit a home run.