October 5th, 2013.
One year ago, a mechanic walked up to me with the keys to my car, and politely told me that my car was driving straight again. I was thrilled, and probably showed a little too much excitement. Perhaps that’s what sparked the next conversation.
SS: (handing me my keys) “So, is there a Mr. Nascar?”
Me: “Ha. No. There isn’t. There used to be, but he wasn’t smart enough to hold onto me. So no. There is not a Mr. Nascar.”
SS: “Can there be?”
Remember when I said Fuck the Norm? Well, it’s worked out amazingly ever since. I left my guard up for as long as it needed to be up, and eventually brought it down.
It’s been an entire year, and I don’t want to hurt him and bury him in a hole. I can stand to be in the same room with him for longer than 30 minutes at a time, which brings the grand total of people I can do that with, to SEVEN. I’m proud to be seen walking around with him, and live for the moments when he chases me through a parking lot with a basket full of groceries. We create our own fun, and I think that’s what I love the most about him.
My Dearest SS: You were there to help give me that push I needed to move out on my own. You were there to wipe away the tears when I got the news StepDad was dying. You were there to comfort me when things went bad at work. You provided a strong shoulder, when all I expected was a hand. You’re an amazing man, and I’m extremely grateful every single day, that we have found each other. I love you.
Here’s to many, many more…..