The Start

30 Jun

I first started speaking to Simon Christopher via email. I say “speaking”, I mean cc’ing him in work-related emails. He would receive my voice clips for a weekly feature I did on their radio station and do what he needed to do on his side. From there, I discovered him on Twitter. I never wanted to say “we met through Twitter”, but I guess the truth of the matter is that that is where we started talking. There was a bit of banter, and then he disappeared from Twitter for weeks. When he came back we started talking again, more and more. Look, online is not real life, but sometimes you can just tell when there’s a connection.

The day I met him? 29 March 2011. Me, hungover and makeup-free, feeling as bad as I looked. He made me coffee. I joked that it took too long. The coffee was really good. When I first walked into their offices, he walked up to me, arms open. I had no idea that was him at first. Best hug ever, though. And then we ran into each again a few hours later while I was shopping. “You really are just all high heels and cupcakes, aren’t you?” I found out a few weeks after that that he had totally perved over my legs as I walked away.

From that day onwards, we talked 24/7. We were both in difficult places, emotionally. I had just been dumped for no reason, he and his very long-term girlfriend were on a break.

I guess it’s complicated to explain how it all started. Much like it is difficult to put into words how you feel about someone. But we talked a lot. I was just getting back to church and slowly building my relationship with God and Jesus after four years of drifting further and further away from it all. He helped. We talked a lot. I asked questions. He answered. Sometimes his answer was that he didn’t have an answer, that no one has all the answers. We shared jokes. We told secrets. We prayed. He was blue eyes, a mind that made my eyes sparkle, a mouth that made me stutter, a voice that made me fall in love with him repeatedly every day.

The first time we kissed? A bottle of wine and crème brulee, the only dessert we both really like. From there we went to the beach. It took him about three hours to pluck up the courage to kiss me, and another three for us to stop kissing. I went to bed grinning like a loon, my head spinning, my heart thumping in my chest. The next day, and the next, we spent every possible second together, for what was the most romantic weekend of my life.

And then I flew back home. We lived a thousand miles apart at that point. I was only there for a job interview. We decided to take things slowly. If I didn’t get the job, I wouldn’t move, and that would be that [yeah, sure. Like I could EVER not be with this person]. If I did, I would only know in a few weeks, and we could take it slowly until then.

I got the job. We went from living 1 000 miles apart, to 8.

I love him. And this is just the beginning of sixty winters.



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