I’ve had a few quirky Fina moments lately.
How do you explain to J that you ran into David at a bar (while out with a friend) and ended up going to a concert with him (and her), while the LOML (figure that one out, mmmkay) was working in Canada?
More accurately, I couldn’t decide when to tell J I had done this. Not because he doesn’t trust me or doesn’t like David, but because I didn’t want him to carry the burden while working 75 hours a week, and I didn’t want him to think I was hiding anything, either. Sigh.
To keep it simple, I told him the day he got back into town when the time seemed right. He was totally fine with it, and didn’t seem bothered at all. But I laughed about how adult relationships change so much. Yes, it’s possible to have great friends of the opposite sex, but sometimes it’s just easier to keep your girlfriends closer. While I understand there are a few exceptions to this rule (I have several guy friends who I consider best friends, but they’re now married and it makes life so much easier, especially because their wives are amazing), and there are a few of you shooting daggers through the screen, I’m not talking in absolutes here. It’s okay to disagree, and that brings me to my next thought:
I posted an article on FB recently, about the perks of dating a ‘grown-ass man.’ A friend from college responded by saying the author was presenting her experience as fact, which got me thinking about our roles as writers. That’s exactly what we do. Why wouldn’t we? I can’t write about something I haven’t experienced. Duh. Just because everyone won’t agree with her personal narrative doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It’s just not a shared experience of the entire human race. How many experiences can we, as a whole world, truly share? And, hey, if you don’t like it, then feel free to strap on a set and write your own. But you certainly won’t find me at the other end saying, “Hey guys, this isn’t true because I haven’t gone through that.” *End rant*
Lastly, and probably most importantly, J and I have reached the one year mark on our relationship. Yesssssssssss. Our celebration wasn’t on a specific day. I don’t think either of us truly paid attention to the date when he asked me to be his girlfriend. So we’ve sort of used the entire month of July as our anniversary, and I’m totally fine with that. Here are the highlights:
- A trip, including the beach, booze, best friends, and sunburns. Perfection.
- The Muny. Les Miserable was incredible and the venue is breathtaking.
- A fancy(ish) vegan dinner at a pop-up, small plate restaurant in the city.
- More time with friends than we’ve had in a long time.
- And, because all of those things seem a bit girl-oriented, I bit the bullet and went paint balling with him. For the first time in my life. And I might do it again. That shit wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
We’ve jammed packed celebratory events into our month. It was everything I could have hoped for, honestly. Nothing too formal. Just J and I enjoying the company of one another in a menagerie of ways. This, by the way, totally represents our relationship. We don’t share too many interests, which I always thought was a deal breaker, but it’s the exact opposite. Loving someone who doesn’t like the exact same things as me, but is very passionate about his own interests, has opened my eyes to different parts of life I’ve never expected I’d see. How exciting is that?
At the end of the day, July has been a month full of surprises and extraordinary events. We’ve made incredible, life-long memories that I’m so thankful to have. I navigated the four year anniversary of leaving Mike without a single melt-down, and I owe that ability to my amazing, wonderful boyfriend who has been my best friend and cheerleader since day one.
What an amazing month I’ve had, a perfect boyfriend I cherish, and an exciting future I get to walk into, without fear of the past.
Who could ask for a better anniversary celebration?