Legit

In a few short hours, I'll be headed to M3's mid-sized city to spend a few short hours. Actually, I'll be there for more like 16 of them, which is about a million shy of what I'd prefer at this point, especially after going from spending five consecutive days with M3 to spending six consecutive days without him. But beggars who live two hours apart and have allegedly very busy lives can't be choosers.

During my visit tonight, M3 will either forcibly (though more likely, willingly) submit to a full-scale investigation of the third degree variety regarding the conversation he had with his sister, A, on Thursday night. The conversation in which the full can o' beans was spilled regarding me, him and us.

I've been privy to very little information about this conversation thus far. Although, I do have confirmation that the full chronology of events was shared with A, beginning from the very first email I received from M3 on December 14, as I sat on the couch in the surprisingly spacious New York City living room of a very good friend, in which he proposed we bypass the prescribed and contrived "get to know you" steps normally recommended by the online dating site that brought us together and, instead, go "fast track."

Good choice.

Last Sunday, as the end of our wonderful five days was coming to a close, M3 admitted that he was going to tell his sister about us. In turn, I owned up to the fact that, whenever thought or talk turns to this very topic, I find myself gripped by a debilitating (and, by the way, totally valid) fear that I'll be viewed as a homewrecker. Especially by his sister. Let's be honest, even the nicest and most supportive girl, especially when it comes to looking out for her brother, can instantaneously morph into a stone cold bitch).

But because M3 is wonderful and fabulous and perfect, he totally understood. And after debating the merits of full disclosure to the sister vs. putting forth a version slightly edited for this particular audience, he ultimately landed on the latter. He'd tell A about us but wouldn't necessarily share every single detail in its true chronology, lest he look like a philanderer and (of greater concern, at least to present company) I look like a trampy ho.

Somewhere between that conversation on Sunday and his dinner with A on Thursday, he changed his mind.

She knows everything. And thinks I sound great. And loves my name.

And I couldn't be happier.

The fears and concerns and apprehensions about being viewed as the person who came between M3 and his girlfriend...as the girl who willingly engaged with him (albeit only electronically) while he was still in the final stages of his relationship...or as the woman of questionable judgment who saw fit to get involved with him mere days after that relationship finally concluded...

...they've all fallen away..

Because telling his sister everything is fucking huge.

(So was telling my mom.)