This post might be a little bit nauseating, but as this is my blog, and as it is my unofficial anniversary with Marshall - and as happy occasions have been harder to come by, as of late - I'm going for it. Be warned .
One year ago, I had one of the most eventful days of my life. Allow me to set the scene: Sal got neutered by a vet who pronounced his name "Saul," Marshall cried in front of me for the second time ever (the first being at a showing of Brokeback Mountain), my American Lit professor said I had to pretend Walt Whitman was tagging along with me for the entire weekend and then write a poem about it, Marshall wore a skirt, we went to see Gilgamesh downtown, Marshall did a mad hot rap for me, I said "I love you" to her for the last time it would ever come off as platonic. And then she stayed the night with me, after all our friends had cleared the room. She put on two pairs of socks, then valiantly kept Sal from attacking my toes during the night, distracting him with her own feet. We whispered admissions - that we'd been looking forward to the night all week, that we were afraid of becoming bad friends to each other. Finally, we got down to it: Marshall revealed that she wanted me, and I followed suit. And then we agreed that nothing could come of it, because we're both terrible at relationships and besides, we didn't want to ruin our friendship.
And then she kissed me anyway, brave girl that she is. And that, my friends, is how all this came to be. One year, and it's been absolutely incredible, and full of exciting things, like Blankets (my giraffe),
One year ago, I had one of the most eventful days of my life. Allow me to set the scene: Sal got neutered by a vet who pronounced his name "Saul," Marshall cried in front of me for the second time ever (the first being at a showing of Brokeback Mountain), my American Lit professor said I had to pretend Walt Whitman was tagging along with me for the entire weekend and then write a poem about it, Marshall wore a skirt, we went to see Gilgamesh downtown, Marshall did a mad hot rap for me, I said "I love you" to her for the last time it would ever come off as platonic. And then she stayed the night with me, after all our friends had cleared the room. She put on two pairs of socks, then valiantly kept Sal from attacking my toes during the night, distracting him with her own feet. We whispered admissions - that we'd been looking forward to the night all week, that we were afraid of becoming bad friends to each other. Finally, we got down to it: Marshall revealed that she wanted me, and I followed suit. And then we agreed that nothing could come of it, because we're both terrible at relationships and besides, we didn't want to ruin our friendship.
And then she kissed me anyway, brave girl that she is. And that, my friends, is how all this came to be. One year, and it's been absolutely incredible, and full of exciting things, like Blankets (my giraffe),
Belly and Boudreaux,
bathtimes,
blizzards (by Asheville's standards, at any rate),
bare feet,
Brian Lee's relationship advice and earnest attempts at photography,
blankets (which Marshall's fond of hiding beneath, thus becoming the Covermonster),
babies,
and being far too famous for our own good.
All this, plus a whole lot of things which don't begin with the letter B. It's been a year, folks, and while I still worry that I'm toxic, I've learned not to let it keep me from loving. Not that I could exactly help it, since I've been falling for this girl since I saw her sitting alone at breakfast one morning, poring through her schoolbooks and oblivious to my blatant stares. It's still kind of a wonder that we ever got together at all, and it was never supposed to become a relationship, much less a love thing, but I'm not a bit shocked that it's gone on this long. Like I'd let go of a girl who calls me 'applejack' and serenades me with James Taylor in her sleep!
Now I'm off to continue our celebration, which started with a bottle of red wine and the Boys on the Side soundtrack (which should be a lesbian staple, by the way) last night, and has gone on all day, in that low-key, lovey-dovey way we tend to do things. Thanks for enduring this post, everyone; and thanks for enduring my crazed condition this year, Copper. I've got all I need, right here, and I'd do well to remember this more often.
Now I'm off to continue our celebration, which started with a bottle of red wine and the Boys on the Side soundtrack (which should be a lesbian staple, by the way) last night, and has gone on all day, in that low-key, lovey-dovey way we tend to do things. Thanks for enduring this post, everyone; and thanks for enduring my crazed condition this year, Copper. I've got all I need, right here, and I'd do well to remember this more often.
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