I spent a good half hour trying to think of a decent title for this post, and I decided self explanatory was simple enough.
I’m not really one for public displays of emotional outpourings (I’ll leave to our Yankee-doodle cousins across the pond), but I couldn’t let a year go by without writing something.
Everyone has a love story, and every love story is perfect, in it’s own way, but mine is one of my favourites.
What’s more romantic than a boy following a girl across the world, on a whim that she’s ‘the one’?
As stories go, that’s one I can’t wait to tell the grandkids.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
Our one year anniversary was a strange goal point for us.
Most couples hit one year with elation, it’s the turning point where shit’s getting real, it’s a big one, but for us it just felt like a given.
For us shit is already real.
We couldn’t wait for that ‘one year’ to tick by.
Not just because we were going to Scotland, but because finally chronology had caught up with how we feel about each other.
This has never been a causal fling, for either of us and I don’t know when it happened, but pretty early on we both knew we were in it for the long haul.
I’m a self-confessed sapiosexual, I need to be challenged intellectually and as a friend once told me (when I was lamenting over why there were no interesting and attractive men in Ashby), I need someone who makes me think.
Zac never stops learning, he never wants to stop learning. He challenges me and questions me and makes me think.
Our conversations free fall from the education system to wrestling to the Presidential Election.
Increasingly we say the same things at the same time and we’ll randomly burst into song together, entire conversations flash by in a look between us, but besides from all the cutesy stuff, that happens when you spend time with anyone, I love talking to him.
It’s been a year at close quarters. Besides Bali, I think I’ve had a week to myself since we’ve been together and while it was slightly affronting having someone so up in my space, I do feel slightly lost when he’s not there.
He drives me mad.
Of course he does.
He can be annoying as hell and his Mum always asks me if I’m not sick of him yet, but I don’t think I ever will be.
Here is it, all written down for the world to see: I love him.
Completely. Unconditionally. Even when he won’t stop sniffing because of his allergies and when he has to check the car door five times to make sure it’s locked, or when asks me the same question for the twelfth time already knowing the answer but asking anyway because he’s twitchy that there’s a time restraint on the thing he’s asking that’s out of his control.
We’ve both grown in the past year. Together, separately, as a couple, as individuals.
My hair colour has changed from blue to pink, visually perhaps that’s the biggest difference, but I’m the kind of happy that doesn’t go away – even when it’s squashed by all the other real shit.
Physically Zac’s bigger, he’s put on weight but he was trying to and I’m convinced he’s broken the 2m mark, but emotionally he’s grown too. It’s hard to work out exactly how, but that wise head (on young shoulders) is getting wiser. We’ll need to find the tape measure to prove he’s taller, I don’t know what the EQ equivalent is – maybe it’s the beard or maybe the man bun has turned him into a man.
So I have a travel buddy.
And a best friend.
A human diary to fill with secrets and share my fears.
And the ultimate team mate.
It feels pretty good.