As you’ve probably noticed by now, I gave up writing about my love life early on in this blog. I decided it wasn’t fair to the person I was with, to anybody I might someday be with, and to myself. So I stopped. And it was probably a good idea… though perhaps the blog would have been juicier and more interesting than it already is, it would have been a lot more Bridget Jones and a lot less … well, whatever it is now.
But as you’ve surely also noticed, lately I’ve taken to referring to a certain French someone, and that was only after a long period of blogular absence on his part because I didn’t think it was fair, for the reasons outlined above. The funny thing is that if you’re in someone’s life but not in their blog, I guess it’s a little weird. And so, with Frenchy’s blessing, he has slowly been woven into the fabric of my life story. Apparently, his appearances keep his mom entertained too, which is extremely important!
So why am I even writing about this now? Partly perhaps because I finally had a full day to spend with him after nearly three weeks. After spending all week in the office, then traveling for work for ten days, and then jumping right back into work (and him into classes), this past Friday night and Saturday that we had all to ourselves was a very special occasion. And even more so, considering I’m writing this from an airplane seat somewhere over Greenland as I head to San Francisco for the annual Game Developers Conference. (AKA Nerdfest 2008!)
But even more than that, it’s because this weekend, and February 15 in particular, marks one year since we suddenly realized we couldn’t live without each other. From the first sneaky kiss at the BOW at Otto Zutz (ok, maybe not so sneaky…) to now, one year later, Frenchy has been at the top of my thoughts and has held the entirety of my heart. He’s my first thought every morning, no matter where I am, and my last thought before I fall asleep. I would love to have a job that requires hanging out with him all day, because he never bores me or gets on my nerves. And since such employment is unlikely, we content ourselves with seeing as much of each other as we possibly can, including during nearly five months we spent on different continents, in different hemispheres between June and November. Now that we live in the same city again, life is more brilliant than usual.
Before all of this, when Frenchy and I were just in a band together, just friends harboring secret crushes on each other, I was happy. My life was full and wonderful. Full of friends, family, travel, fun, and adventure. I didn’t really think it could get much better until February 15, when my world was turned completely around and upside down, in the most spectacular way.
For those of you who are reading this and thinking I’ve lost my mind, my edge, my toughness, my je ne sais quoi, I apologize. It may be true. And if so, I don’t mind never getting back to “normal.” For those of you who have never felt this way, and feel rather like barfing over my cheesiness, I hope that when the opportunity appears, you grab it. Because it’s amazing. And for Frenchy, who is surely reading this, thank you for the best year of my life. You are perfect.
By the way, I'll totally go again, too. It was AWESOME. 2 seconds of insane stomach-turning free-falling madness, followed by 58 seconds of terminal velocity "are we really going anywhere?" thoughts, followed by 7 or 8 minutes of magical floating. Except for the 30 seconds where my partner decided to put us in a very tight spin toward the fabulous swimming pools of Costa Brava. That wasn't magical. That was just barfy. And he thought it was funny until I said, "No, seriously, voy a vomitar." End spinning!
