i carry your heart/i carry it in my heart
Five years ago today we were chatting on yahoo instant messenger, as we did just about every day when I lived in Berkeley and you lived in Greeley. I was excited about having a day off in the middle of the week (the Fourth was a Wednesday I think) and I was at that point hating my job because of my Evil Boss. We had been chatting online for about 3 months and I’d met you at the airport with flowers in June when you flew in to attend your grandfather’s memorial service. Which is the only time you didn’t spend with me that whole weekend. Our IM sessions had graduated to talking on the phone in May-ish and the first time we heard each other’s voices we didn’t hang up for seven hours.
You excited me, and our mutual internet friend (EEK!) had sussed out how I REALLY felt long before I did. I was so nervous to give you my phone number, but was so glad that I did. And then we talked, and then you visited, and then I fell in love.
Five years ago today we were chatting online, and someone else had just propositioned me online. He was kind of creepy and I told you about it. I managed to twist his words around into a joke and then told you that he had proposed to me. “You missed out on proposing to me first!” I teased. “Darn,” you responded. “Well? Wanna get hitched?”
Butterflies exploded in my belly, because though we’d only known each other a short while and had only spent one weekend together, I knew there was something special between us. But I played it off smoothly. “Where’s my ring?” I asked.
You posted a lower-case o.
“That’s too small!” I exclaimed.
You posted a capital O.
“Still too small,” I said. “That’s all I got,” you replied.
Two weeks later you flew out to visit again and we knew that this was it, that we were really a couple. It would be hard work, the long distance phone calls and weekend visits and letters and postcards. We would both cry. It would be so hard, but it was at that point that I decided I’d move to Denver to be closer to you.
A few months passed, and we were talking about our relationship. “When is our anniversary?” I asked. We both agreed it was sometime between the first and second visit. And then I remembered your silly proposal and reminded you it was on July 3. I remembered because the next day I got to be off work in the middle of the week.
Months passed and we spent all our money on plane tickets. We took road trips together around our respective states and surrounding areas. And I moved to Denver, and six months later you moved in with me.
I can’t express in words how I feel. I would give you the world if I could. I will just have to settle for giving you all of myself that I can give to someone else. In turn, you have given me myself. I have never felt more alive, more happy, or more content than when I am with you, whether we are on the Great Wall or in Berkeley in the rain or in our kitchen and you give me a hug and I grab your ass, because sometimes I do that. Sometimes. You accept all my quirks and weirdnesses and you laugh at me when I am silly. We work in our garden, we watch our cats together and talk about the future. I know that today you are sad, that life has not brought everything you would like it to bring. You left the house with a heavy heart, perhaps because you had hoped and planned for there to be something special to mark today. But there is, without needing to buy me anything or go to New York (we will go, just not now) or whatever it is you are sad about. Today is special because we get to hang out together and we ate breakfast together and we’ll work on our new place and play with the kitties. Today is special just like every day I get to wake up next to you is special. I don’t want any more than that.