let's do this.

When meeting new people it's hard not to categorize them into social groups: college friends, high school friends; dog park friends, coworkers, or neighbors. From the moment I walked across the street to introduce myself, Tally was "my neighbor." She and I both admit, we believed each other were in committed relationships - so it remained "my neighbor", but also "my cute neighbor", and "my cute neighbor dating some guy, long-distance". Every friend who saw Tally would flash a glance my way, inquiring why I hadn't yet asked her on a date. Continually, I would reply that she was "in a relationship." To be fair, Tally was always on the go: with Hatch to the dog park, riding her bike to her co-working space, going out for a run, or unpacking from a camping trip. I could tell she loved being active and in nature. It was definitely part of my attraction to her. I wished she was single - and that I was confident enough to ask her out. Our interactions were like most neighbors, trading casual "hellos," and short conversations about why my daughter, Annie, was dressed as a ladybug 3 entire weeks before Halloween. A year later, a friend started pushing me to start dating. At that time, I reluctantly created an online dating profile and prepared for the painful process of wading through San Antonio's eligible dating pool. When I finally felt prepared, I turned the dating app "live" and the first person to pop-up as a potential match was none other than "my cute neighbor dating some guy long-distance." Only now she was "this girl I've had a crush on for so long is single and across the street". This revelation changed everything. Immediately I turned off the dating app - unsure of myself and of my profile. For weeks, we danced around each other online and in real life. Both of us were trying in different ways to bump into each other more often. Suddenly, we were walking our dogs at the same time, and I was casually reading on my front porch in 103 degree weather. Our conversations were testing for interest in the oddest ways. Tally thanked me for letting her borrow my recycling can and I think I scared her yelling "Hi" across the street while she was running. Tally even struck up a conversation about our mutual love of sparkling water (after digging through my recycling). While I pondered (and even googled) the pros and cons of dating your neighbor, Tally became impatient. Thankfully, she made a move and for our first date, by walking across the street with a handful of sour beers. As usual, Annie thought this was a play date for her. So, our first date was mostly watching them play from her bedroom doorway, smiling at how wonderful she was with Annie. Everyone that knows Tally sees her bright light, feels her energy and love. To be warmed by her smile is the greatest feeling. I've never known such love. Everyday I'm grateful for her. Everyday I'm grateful that she dug through my trash and found my heart.