I’ve wondered this aloud before, wondering it aloud again: if Q and I didn’t share this blog, what would I share about my relationship with him in this space? On my sarcasticfringe.com blog, I had days when I threw up all over certain entries, but that was mainly about the depression. I don’t remember giving great detail about the guys I was dating. Crazy Dude, Stalker Dude, Using Me Dude. That was about the extent of it.
I’d probably learned my lesson from my sketchbook journals. It’s tough re-reading entries about every single This Is The One, Love Of My Life three years later barely remembering the guy’s name. This Is It, This Is It, followed by We Broke Up. Over and over. And over. So maybe my caution comes from not getting caught up so much in the telling and the retelling, but in the actual work of the relationship. The intimacy, the privacy, the inside jokes that no one else should ever hear.
It feels like we’ve been together 10 years, it feels like we met yesterday. If you’re taking notes, it’s been 16 months that we’ve known each other, exactly one year that our coupledom has been official official. I’ve driven him crazy, he’s brought me to tears. Together, we laugh more than had previously been determined by the medical community to be healthful.
We live apart, yet haven’t been apart for a single day since the very first words we spoke to each other. Blended, we grow.
Soooooo much, J.
Happy one year.
[16 missing comments]
