One Year Ago Today

was a Saturday. I don't remember if I went to rehearsal. I do remember cleaning the heck out of my house Friday night. I do remember telling my dad, who was staying with me on weekends, that he had to be elsewhere for the better part of the evening. I remember cooking dinner, though what I made I couldn't say, I'm pretty sure there was asparagus. The exact dinner is really irrelevant.

I had a date. He brought a bottle of wine and a couple movies: Gremlins, which he knew terrified me but I was willing to see, and I think we also saw the Village that night. He warned me when the scary, jump out at you part was coming. And I spent the evening in his arms.

It was the first of many evenings spent that way. Pretty much weekly, and also weekendly (that's my word, shut up): dinner, made or picked up or gone out, and then sitting together with something on the telly. I remember one time we sat there together on that couch and talked all night and never got around to turning the TV on at all.

And it's not all TV. Sometimes it's parties, corn mazes, theater, karaoke, little local cons, a trip to Connecticut. It's been a wonderful year.

We don't really see each other as often as I wish; sometimes the distance between our homes is poignant. But we do what we can and I'll happily take what I can get. Any time with him is time well spent. He is kind and patient and understanding and handsome and gentle and affectionate. He is one of the most beautiful people I know.

This day marked our first year. I got to spend the day in his arms or by his side, where I most wanted to be. We didn't do anything special, and that's just fine. Being with him is what I needed.

Our first year. It's been so wonderful. I look forward to all the years to come, and I know each one will be better than the last. I love him, and I am so lucky to have his love.