First Death, First Life: Part II

Dear Jason,

Today is our Anniversary. Our one-year, "holy cow has it really been that long stick a fork in us are we done yet" Anniversary.

In some ways it feels just like yesterday I met you, but in other ways, the cliche doesn't apply to us at all. Okay, let's just compromise by saying that I remember everything about the day I met you.

It was a Monday morning. I didn't want to get up, but you said you were from "out of town", whatever that meant, and that you were going to be driving through Cincinnati after dropping a friend off at the airport. Eight o'clock on a Monday morning is a helluva early time to meet a stranger, but your picture in your profile was really handsome and...well...I guess I could make an exception.

Just like me, I was late. Just like you, you were early. The first of a thousand differences that we would eventually discover. I walked into the restaurant and there you were, sitting in the first booth next to the door, your nose stuck in a textbook that didn't look as interesting as you might have hoped. I sat down and I was immediately struck by how handsome you were, despite your solemn expression.

I immediately started chatting away about who-knows-what with my infamous air of confidence with a hint of intimidation. You looked so serious that I tried extra hard to make you laugh. You only cracked a smile twice, but for those few precious seconds, your entire countenance changed. I wanted to see you smile all the time; I wondered why you didn't.

In the meantime, you filled me in on the broad strokes of your life. You told me you used to be a waiter and you showed me a baby picture of your eldest niece. You made such a big deal about good customer service from waiters that I was little put off. And then when the bill finally came, you tipped the waiter so much that I thought you had a lot of money.

I had mentioned in passing about the opening of an art gallery, simply for conversation. Yet before we left, you said, "So I'll see you in 2 weeks? For the art gallery?" I guess you paid more attention than I thought. You complimented me on my long black boots. I hugged you, and your surprise amused me.

We hung out casually over the next month. Nothing serious, just fun. I was confused by your mystery, your random bouts of silence, and vague attempts to hint your true interest. At the same time, I was drawn to your spontaneity, your stories of wild young nights, and your carefree nature. I jaywalked; you waited for the green light. I printed out directions and scribbed in landmarks on the map; you just wanted to know which state I wanted to be in. I was elated that you didn't care whether we turned left or right, let alone what we did next.

In the meantime I was hanging out with several other new friends. I even started to get involved with another man. I didn't know what to do about you - I even asked a friend which man I should choose. The other man made so much logical sense. In my head, he was a fairytale romance. But he didn't have my heart. That part of me was wandering off elsewhere...to you.

After weeks of agonizing deliberation, I decided to go with my heart. Frankly, being with you made no logical sense at all. But I couldn't ignore the spark and the invisible connections that were beginning to tie us together - It is that same intangible connection that kept me coming back to you when things got rough and keeps me by your side even now.

I never planned to act on my decision. But then things never happen the way we plan it, do they? One month after we met, I drove to your house for the first time to watch a movie. Two hours later, I demanded you kiss me. 24 hours later, we were in love.

Since then, life has been a happy-sad-maddening-murderous-forgiving-loving rollercoaster. You and I have seen each other through some major life transitions; our relationship has had more than its fair share of bumps and bruises too. Many times I have questioned whether I made the correct decision. Should I find someone more like me?

But every time I think about leaving, I realize that being with someone else would mean not being with you. And THAT is something I would never consider. As painful as it is to be with you sometimes, it is even more painful to be without you.

I know your soft spots. I know how to make you smile. I know the smell of you skin and the taste of your kiss. Those are my soft spots. That's my smile. That's my skin and my kiss. You are mine and I am yours.

I love you, Jason. The things we disagree on, our baggage and our flaws...we can be taught how to work through those things. As far as love goes, we have that down pat, yet it's something that can't be taught. I'd say we're doing pretty well thus far, wouldn't you?

Here's to another year, baby.

Your loving girlfriend,

Leslie