Poconos: Part One

I really wanted to do some word play with that title; something like "Poco-No" or "Poc-Oh-No No," but fortunately (or unfortunately for poetic license's sake) my weekend with Scott was really, really nice.

The drive to the Poconos takes about three hours from Long Island, but we wanted to avoid traffic so we left around 7 on Friday. This gave us the perfect amount of time to check in, carry our luggage to the room, and have sex on our king size bed once before falling asleep. I usually have trouble falling asleep anywhere besides my bed, but ever since I started having sleep overs with Scott, I haven't had any trouble sleeping when I'm next to him. I know it's corny. Believe me, I want to throw up, too.

When I woke up Saturday morning, I heard the shower running. I pretended to still be asleep when Scott came out of the bathroom. I'm glad I wasn't actually asleep, because Scott jumped on the bed.

"Caroline, Caroline," he sang as he shook the mattress.

"Stop," I playfully whined. "Just come back under the covers with me."

"No way, boss," he said as he finally stopped shaking the mattress. "You have to get up now if you want to get breakfast before golf."

The word 'breakfast' peaked my interest, but it was followed by something that did not. "Since when are we golfing?" I asked him in a half groan.

"I thought it'd be fun," Scott said with a shrug. I felt bad for groaning two seconds prior. Scott regularly went golfing with his dad or his coworkers. I jokingly complained when he couldn't hang out with me because he was golfing and he would respond by offering to teach me. Since I know a lot of guys golf to try to get away from their girlfriends and wives, it felt nice that he wanted to share this activity with me.

"Well, I'm going to need a big breakfast then!" I said as I sat up and stretched my arms up.

"Good," Scott replied with a smile. He began rummaging in his suitcase for clothes while I jumped in the shower and tried to be as quick as possible.

We walked down to the lobby, hand in hand, before Scott guided me down the road to a cute breakfast place. The place was one of those artsy breakfast places, where everything was painted in weird colors but you knew that their pancakes would be amazing. Scott ordered banana ones while I stuck with chocolate chip. I was kind of on vacation, right? With this logic, I also ordered a side of bacon and a cappuccino.

I caught Scott smiling to himself as the waitress walked away. "What?" I nervously asked.

"Nothing," Scott replied shaking his head. "It's just," he continued after a paused moment. "You're so cute sometimes."

I blushed. "I thought you were going to call me a fat ass."

Scott laughed. "Do you really think I would ever do that?" I leaned forward a bit and shook my head no. "I think it's the little things you do that make you so lovable," he went on. "The way you'll order all this food and then push it toward me, insisting I eat it because you don't want to get too full. Or the way you always act cautious when you ask the waitress to bring you something other than black coffee, as if she's going to think you're being a pain."

Scott was completely right. I did do those things. I wanted to start crying right there at breakfast, though, because those are the types of things that you don't think anybody else notices. You don't think people are even paying that much attention. But they're also the kinds of things that the person who loves you will always pick up on and, more importantly, he thinks they're cute as opposed to annoying.

"Well," I began, trying not to sound all choked up. "I'll be here all weekend to keep you entertained."

Scott winked at me before changing the subject to golf. He was trying to explain to me the importance of form and blah, blah, blah. I honestly couldn't really pay attention. I couldn't stop thinking how lucky I was to be with Scott in this moment.

Overall, I feel pretty good about myself on any given day. But have you ever had a moment where you feel like there's nothing special about you? I feel like I meet or hear about empowering, interesting women all the time but everywhere I look these women are having trouble snagging men who are their equals. In those moments, I wonder what made me special enough for Scott. I'm sure he'd met girls before who were just as pretty as me or just as smart or just as nice. So why me? And that makes me wonder if maybe there's something I'm not seeing.

I know, I know, it all sounds so dramatic. I promise I don't act out these impulses. I also don't think like this all the time, but I have some moments of weakness. In this particular moment, I didn't question Scott's character at all. Contrary to what he may believe from our one, kind of, sort of fight the night he told me I was overreacting at the bar, I truly trusted Scott and never in a million years would believe that he would cheat on me.

Anyway, Scott was totally right that I couldn't finish all that food on my own, but he didn't object at all when I shoved the plate of bacon his way. As we walked out of the restaurant, I grabbed his face with both my hands and planted an extra passionate kiss on him.

"I have to take you to this place more often," Scott joked after I pulled away.

"I just love you," I gently replied. Then we were on our way and I actually couldn't wait to golf!