Progress: The body of the sweater, including shoulders and neckline, is done.
We were in Vermont for a wedding between two of his friends, and he was one of the groomsmen. I didn’t realize that this would mean that on the day of the ceremony I would be completely on my own with people who have known the bride and groom since they were born. As a result of the drinking that was required for me to blend in in such an environment, by the end of the night I’d broken a champagne glass and spilled a bottle of beer all over the dance floor. Mazel!
How close were we to breaking up? 3. I could have smashed the entire bar and still benefited from the weekend-long immunity that comes from driving five hours and being Such A Good Sport™ (except for the small tantrum I threw over text when I was, quite literally, standing alone in a field).
Progress: Starting the first sleeve
He needed to briefly step out during a Zoom grad school class, so he turned off his camera and muted his microphone. I told him I’d keep an eye on his computer in case anything happened. Almost as soon as the door shut behind him, the professor called his name, asking a question. I froze.
“Sorry, my video isn’t working! One second,” I typed into the chat while frantically calling him on the phone. He dictated his answer to me, which I sent with my heart pounding.
“Yes, very good point,” the professor said. I felt like we had pulled off a heist.
How close were we to breaking up? 0. If we could get through that, we could get through anything.
Progress: Almost done with the second sleeve.
To celebrate our five-year anniversary, we took a weekend trip to New Orleans where I was hellbent on getting a good picture of us. We don’t pose for photos very frequently, which means we have hardly any documentation of our now quite significant relationship. After 36 hours of failed attempts, I had a meltdown on our final evening after the poor hotel receptionist took what, to anyone else, is a perfectly acceptable photo but, to me, was evidence I should never show myself in public again.
How close were we to breaking up? 5. I walked to dinner in silence, but perked up after remembering that we would get a free dessert because I had flagged our anniversary to Resy.
To provide some respite from what has been a wedding-heavy year, my boyfriend let me off the hook from a ceremony in his hometown, and I went back to my parents’ house for a belated birthday celebration for my dad. During the car ride home, I finished the godforsaken sweater, only two months later than I had originally thought it would be done. Luckily, the weather finally turned as soon as I put my needles down, meaning my boyfriend would be able to put it on right away. Theoretically. After 90 days, seven arguments, and zero breakups, he has yet to actually wear this labor of love out of the house. Maybe this is where we break up after all.