We celebrated Zac’s birthday early this year.
Since we’ve been together we’ve been…well…together.
It seems strange that this year, I’ll miss his birthday.
2 years ago we went on our second date (or third if you count lunch at work).
I met Mama G, saw how fast Zac could demolish a pizza and we had our first sleepover.
My flatmates had scoffed at breakfast when I was stressing out I couldn’t find any clean pyjamas, saying I wouldn’t need them – I won’t say either way if they were right, but Zac said has always said his 21st was one of the best.
Last year we were in Amsterdam for his birthday.
He’d managed to spoil one of his birthday surprises for himself, by finding out about the tickets I’d bought him to the wrestling, but the video of him opening his cards being completely oblivious to us telling him about his real present is still something I watch with a huge grin on my face.
“Am I missing something? Wait, we’re still going to the wrestling?”
This year we had an early birthday dinner when he was visiting over Easter weekend.
We went to a place called Papa’s Pizza, just down the road from me: we’d been there last time he was in Auckland with Mama G and we’d enjoyed it so much, it was a given we’d be going back this time around.
He doesn’t really do presents, and being the sentimental squishy bean he is, the fact that we were together was enough for him.
I bought him some chinos he’d had his eye on, some flamingo socks (because he already has a pair that he loves, so I knew they’d be a hit) and a tee shirt to match because he ‘needed one more shirt to complete his wardrobe’.
The biggest present is yet to come.
But while we’re waiting, there’s comfort in knowing that
hopefully by next year we’ll be able to spend it together.