Ten years ago this evening I sat in a cave in Invermere BC (look it up on a map, folks... if you can find it), talking to the wonderful, funny, gentle man who would become my "life partner" (ew, I just threw up in my mouth there). It was a cold night in February in a cave in a tiny town on the edge of the Rocky Mountains at around 11pm. So what did we do? Well, what any young couple would've done: we moved closer and closer as we talked, until suddenly we weren't talking any more. We were kissing.
(And then we had to make our way back to our motels rooms, sexually frustrated because we were on tour with 3 other people and so were segregated into boys' and girls' motel rooms, and we had some 'splaining to do the next day to our fellow performers, who didn't believe that we could have gotten that much cave-dust on our clothes just from talking, and then we had to contain our new-found passion for each other because we were on the road with said 3 other people and it's just not polite to be all over each other when you're around 3 other people.)
And from that decidedly weird beginning, a little seed of love grew into a big tree and- barf
I find it really hard to write all mushy-like. But here goes...
Ten years ago, I didn't know much about anything. And maybe I still don't know much, but somehow I got lucky enough to find someone who loves me with all my flaws, who is my best friend and a damn good lover, who can make me laugh and who genuinely thinks I'm beautiful, even when I'm sick and grumpy and feeling like a manatee. (Or he's a really good actor. After all, he did go to Studio 58.)
Our love has been mostly a steady thing: no affairs, no epic separations, no terrifying fights. Just a rock-solid base on which we build our lives. I would be diminished without this man in my life, and I hope he feels the same way about me.
Jonathan, I love you. Here's to 10 x 10 more years together. At least.