One year

Zed and me at a Jazz game.Last summer I went to a party for a friend who was leaving town for a bit. I wasn’t planning on staying long. I just wanted to pop by say, “hey” and get home.

I walked in, said my hellos and was handed a beer. As I was catching up with Jess on all the gossip I had missed, this guy in black t-shirt kept interrupting us. I was kind of annoyed, but intrigued by this guy who could hold the attention of an entire room while making fun of himself. He was making jokes and taking the piss out of everyone.

I couldn’t stop laughing.

Without even noticing how it happened, he introduced himself, sat down and we suddenly we were bitching about Asian beer. I found out he taught English in China for a year or so, then he owned a bar, then he went sailing. We swapped travel stories for a bit. Then moved on to some more heavy stuff like God and religion. Despite the subject, we kept laughing. I thought he was the funniest, sweetest guy I had met in a long, long time. I couldn’t stop staring at his upper arm/chest area. (This is a seriously under-appreciated part of male anatomy.) He apparently also found me hilarious and likable. We talked so long every one else managed to make their way inside. The host had even gone to bed.

Finally I had to go home; it was way too late.

I was shocked he hadn’t asked for my number in the three hours we had been cracking each other up. So I told him my name again and asked him to find me. He said he would.

The next day he did.

It’s been a year now since that first beer and first laugh. He still makes me laugh every day; and I know a helluva lot more about beer now. 

Toothbrushes And Relationships

It’s just a toothbrush.

He casually mentioned how much more convenient it would be if he just brought a toothbrush over. “It makes sense,” he said. “I’m here all the time anyway.”

I made a noise–the annoyed noise.

“I won’t if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“No, it’s okay.” I breathed. “I think it’s okay. Okay. If I see the toothbrush, and I freak out I’m throwing it away. A toothbrush seems like a big thing to me. Isn’t it to you?”

“No, but I won’t keep one here if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

Then I did the pretend silent sleep toss and turn in bed before I finally gave sleep up and walked to the bathroom. I am fully aware of my one hundred million hang ups and problems with anything even pretending to be a commitment. I had a similar panic attack signing student loans, a car loan and an apartment lease.

But when my life takes a turn into vulnerability and relationships, my panic becomes deeper. After a moment alone with a mostly empty toothbrush holder, I came back to bed. I snuggled closer to him, he enfolded me in his arms. Unconscious. Asleep. Probably not dreaming about toothbrushes in my bathroom.