It’s a Modern Miracle
Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to experience something that is not only new to Thoughts of My Own, but is entirely new to yours truly. As of today, March 2, 2010, I have been in a relationship for 6 months. Six months!
I don’t know if you can all fully appreciate what that means in the world in which I live. Allow me to put this in context. My longest relationship, pre-Irving, was 3 months. And that was in the seventh grade. (Technically, it was the end of seventh grade and two months of summer vacation during which we didn’t see each other because we lived in different neighborhoods, but we hadn’t officially broken up, so I still count it.) That means, for those of you keeping count, that the longest relationship of my life until now was about 15 years ago. (Excuse me a moment while I recover from my age shudders.)
Since that fateful relationship oh-so-many years ago, I took a break from dating for a while. I had a 2-week boyfriend in eighth grade and a 2.5-month boyfriend in the eleventh grade. Then I went back on hiatus until I was 24. At 24 I tried again. I won’t say that it was all bad. In fact, there were some nice boys mixed in. But despite efforts, nothing managed to last more than a couple of months. One came close to 3 months, but he was actually out of the country and scarcely communicating for the last month, so it’s sort of a stretch.
My point here, in case we’d forgotten, was not to lament the brief romantic exchanges of my earlier years, but to celebrate the fact that I’ve actually managed to hold on to this romance for 6 months. And my, what an interesting 6 months it’s been.
First, I had an out-of-town trip that started two days after we met. Then I insisted on dating other people for a while because I liked him and didn’t want to freak myself out by being all “relationship-y.” Then I had another out-of-town trip for which he actually took me to the airport and picked me up from the airport. Did I mention that the drop off was at 4:00am? Let’s see….then I started hearing about engagements from sisters and actual marriages from the brother. (Incidentally, Irving was with me as I learned about most of these wedding events. Nothing says “perfectly normal early relationship sharing” like, “Crap! Everyone I’m related to is getting married and I’m going to die miserable and alone because no one will ever love me because I’m insane. Oh, I’m sorry. Did I just say that out loud? Again?”) Also, in these 6 months, I’ve had a theater festival, a death, the loss of a job, the start of a new job, our initial “I love you”s, and now an impending move. He’s had his own drama, but that’s his business. My point is, we’re still kicking after 6 months of nearly non-stop drama.
One more thing to clarify, if you don’t mind. While the drama has existed outside of the relationship, when it actually comes to how things are with him, there is no drama to be found. In fact, most of our evenings together would probably not rate on anyone’s drama scale. On an average week night, I get home around 6:15. I begin to make dinner and by 7:00 we sit down to a simple meal and watch Rachel Maddow on MSNBC. (Have I mentioned that he’s a screaming liberal as well? Yay!) After dinner, we discuss some options for the evening and then usually have a bowl of ice cream and watch a movie or, on occasion, I’ll work on a project while he works on a project and we sit in contented quiet, talking only when there’s something to say.
If the picture I just presented seems a little too perfect, a little too contented, or a little too ideal, then you’re just jaded. I assure you, I couldn’t have come up with it on my own. In fact, when trying to imagine what the ultimate relationship would be like, I never let myself take it that far. It seemed too farfetched, too unbelievable. I never imagined I’d find someone who would wrap his arms around me while I made dinner or who would wash dishes next to me as I chopped vegetables. I never pictured someone who would sit through an MGM musical and swear that he enjoyed it. I certainly didn’t expect ice sculpting festivals and mountain drives and flowers and foot massages. I couldn’t have asked for someone as caring and as sweet and as considerate. I never expected to be with someone who routinely makes fun of me and yet manages to make me feel better on days when I hate the world.
I’m not trying to gross anyone out with my icky love stuff. I’m really not. I just want to be excited about the fact that after 6 months with this guy, I truly can’t imagine being with anyone else. Ever. So hooray for me for lasting this long without self-sabotage, self-doubt, or poor choices ruining things. And hooray for him for sticking around and proving again and again that I made the right choice.
Hooray for quiet evenings at home on the couch!
Congratulations, six-monther.
March 2nd, 2010 at 7:18 pmGo you, Irving does kinda rock but don’t tell him I said that, it will ruin my image.
March 2nd, 2010 at 9:19 pmMan, I can’t wait to meet this guy!!! You paint a picture that contains some pretty big shoes for “Irving” to fill. Besides, tradition dictates that I have to threaten him with the ususal “you’d better take good care of my best friend, or else” in person. Of course, it sounds like he’s doing a fabulous job of that already so I might skip it for this one… maybe
Congrats, darling! Here’s to another 6!
March 3rd, 2010 at 1:59 amSee, miracles do happen. . . But you make it incredibly easy.
Really, what is not to like about An American in Paris? Besides, I make you sit though Lost every week. (Only eleven more weeks to go.) And I just made you endure District 9, the antithesis of the MGM Technicolor musical. . .
It all evens out in the end.
xoxo
March 5th, 2010 at 5:26 pm