woensdag 3 oktober 2012

I followed my heart

My heart was in love with S. long before my head wrapped itself around the idea of that being a possibility in the first place. He wasn't my type, but I had him pegged all wrong, as I discovered after my heart had decided to give itself away.

I thought he was this typical skinny cyclist macho guy, with his computer games, his bike messengering, his grades always hovering around a pass, his button down shirts and his beer drinking with his mates while ogling women.

I was the president of a literary society, had several book cases filled to the brim cluttering up my room and the tiniest tv possible, which wasn't even mine but on loan from a friend. I would spent hours playing trivial pursuit down at the local pub with my friends, and on the way home would pick up artsy movies to watch late into the night.

Had his cyclist friend and my house mate not lied on S. behalf that he was going to be kicked out of his current abode and needed a place to stay, and didn't we have a spare room after the islander guy had left, I don't think we would have ever met. Our worlds simply did not intersect.

My heart didn't care and decided to go off to live at his place anyway. I think it took my mind six months to get over itself and accept that my heart had found the One without any help from my critical faculties.

This month it's been ten years since we met.

S. brought Mario Kart into the house, and we'd all pile into his room to play. As I am rubbish at cooking for one, I'd end up cooking for everybody. We hung out, we laughed, I gave him dating advice, he gave me clothing advice, he'd call me from the pub to tell me what he was up to and I would sit in his big squashy leather chair watching his tv because it was much nicer than mine and had a better reception of rubbish programs. In emergencies I would dash into his room, because he also owned the largest (and quite possibly only) mirror in the house. Over the course of a year, our lives slowly slotted into one another, until one day we signed up for salsa classes together.

Next month, on E.'s birthday, it'll be nine years that we've been together.

He's still not my type. I don't think I am quite his cup of tea either. But our relationship is not build on common interests or recognition. It makes it harder sometimes, I think, because we need to let go of ourselves to be able to see each other. But I think we do. Because we want the same life and we have the same dreams and we want it together. Because we love each other and we love E. and love is not easy and light and fluffy like a Care Bear Rainbow. Ours is a lot uglier and a lot stronger than that.


This post was inspired by yAnn over at Yannisms, and the thread Love Stories was started by June at MAMAwearPAPAshirt.

6 opmerkingen:

  1. Loved this post so much. I just have to tweet it so much can read this.

    1. Thanks bookjunkie :) Both for the kind words and the tweet! I think most people who've managed to stick together for a while know that it's no rainbow ride. But then a rainbow only has seven colours, which isn't all that much :)

  2. so honest about the uglier yet stronger...i can relate to that :)

  3. Wat kan jij mooi schrijven zeg!

  4. En weer een top blogje!!! gr sanne