Two years with you.
Today is July 28th, 2015, which means that it's been exactly two years since I met my incredible girlfriend Amy, who I'm sure you all know and love since I share my life with her, and thus feature on my blog a lot in turn. I always get asked how we met, and frankly the story is ridiculous. I often share it with people in person, stating 'OMG it's SUCH a funny story', but I've never written about it, and I'm not really sure why.
We we met on OkCupid following a conversation instigated by me, my analysis of her being that she was a 5 foot 9 Riot Grrrl and had a shaved head. She's actually 5 foot 10. Her profile was about as minimal as it gets, which I loved because mine was rammed with rubbish that painted me to be the erratic, pretentious mess that I am. I liked that she liked stuff that I thought was cool, like feminism and James Joyce and Virginia Woolf. All I was looking for was a one night stand, and I thought I'd aim high, so I messaged her asking what her favourite story from Dubliners was. I honestly didn't think she'd reply.
It was about a week later, at 3:00 on a Sunday afternoon that we met up at Finsbury Park station. It actually ended up being 3:30 cause she was running late - I resisted the urge to leave, I wanted to get laid. We had no plans and I couldn't even look her in the eye for social anxiety totally consumed me, so we just got really drunk. You know that you're in for a good time when you get pissed in Finsbury Park in the afternoon, in the drizzle, on a bottle of whiskey, drinking from flashing LED cups bought from the pound shop. We went from the park to Wetherspoons to the Intrepid Fox to meet her friends and then ended up at G-A-Y Late, the birth place of all wonderful relationships. I'd bet on a great many people having had their first kisses in the queue for G-A-Y.
I went back to hers *wink wink* and the following morning I turned my phone on to find about a million missed calls from my work, my friends, my parents. I called my mum to find that once you go on what are essentially blind dates with strangers you meet on the Internet and then don't get in touch with anyone you know, don't show up for work and don't update social media, your status as a missing person becomes escalated and your parents set about traveling from Leicestershire to London in a bid to find you.
Thankfully I got on the phone with my Mum at just the right time - after my parents had left work but before they'd set off for London. My family were furious for worrying them but I think they were secretly glad for having a day off work.
After all the drama settled, the hangover kicked in. Oh god, the hangover. It's always awkward when you wake up at someone's house after a one night stand and don't know what to say, much less when you've spent all morning trying to convince your family and the police that you've not been kidnapped. After that we just spent the day feeling sorry for ourselves, I ate all her Oreo Dairy Milk Chocolate (arguably one of the best things she's brought into my life) and then in the evening, set about the journey home from Canonbury to Elephant and Castle.
The tube was a no. The bus was barely a yes. I got off two buses, threw up all over myself on High Holborn and a builder gave me a bottle of water. I went to Iceland, over the road from my flat, to buy potato smileys in a bid to fix myself but had to leave them at the counter to run outside and puke before returning and purchasing the carby cure. Great times were had by all.
My relationship with Amy has ultimately been based on a mutual craving for each other. A need, an insatiability. I don't know if that's a healthy way to live or love, but it works for me and it works for us. It grew from a profound understanding of ourselves as well as an adaptability, a willingness to learn from each other and from each other's mistakes. We've seen each other through the worst times and the best, through financial crisis, unemployment, loss. I'll continually thank her for her kindness and capability of handling me at my worst - for hanging on when all I did was push her away. Mental health problems can throw a massive spanner in the works of an otherwise stable relationship, but I'm convinced that a mutual understanding of each other's pain can only be a positive thing.
Over the past two years Amy has taught me things about myself that I never understood. She opened my eyes to my understanding of feminism, of gender, of sexuality. She helped me put my identity in to words both written and spoken. She amazes me daily with her patience, her brain, her kindness and understanding. She saw things in me that shone back until I saw them in myself. She is the very reason I am where I am, she has given me everything. A life, a future. A relationship that started as little more than a fascination and lust has grown into something more than I thought possible. Oh, and 8 months ago we also acquired our furbaby, Teddy.
I'll stop gushing now, it's probably about time.
Here's a video I've made which features a lot of clips of Amy's face. Because it's fantastic. She couldn't be more beautiful.
Ugh. I am in love with her.
(Apols about low-resolution. I've had technical difficulties)