Yeah, last time I wrote, I know I said I didn’t know about happily ever after. But to be honest, I knew even then, after ten weeks. I knew after two, really. Not that I have those pesky, youthful illusions of a Disney-style ending, mind you. But love? Life-changing, bone-melting, holy-shit-this-is-fun love? We’re full on in it, ladies and gentlemen.
Oh, it’s complicated. We both have, like, separate, complete lives that somehow are going to be stitched together. Somehow we have to figure out how to share space with both lots of comic books and lots of fabric and doll heads. We’re keeping V in the forefront, because she’s important to both of us, and we want especially to do this right, for her as well as for us. Plus, she’s twelve. She didn’t ask for this excitement, but she’s along for the ride just the same.
I have been hesitant to write about it, actually. Not because I don’t think it’s real (because sweet holy moses it’s real). And not because I’m superstitious I might somehow jinx things (we’re way past jinxing, y’all). But I fancy myself a bit of a cynic. Or at least a supporter of cynics. Frankly, I expected to just get more crotchety in time: I didn’t think I’d be all giggling, hand-holding, adorably in love in my mid 40s. But here we are.
He threw me a surprise party for my birthday. He introduced me to his friends and acquaintances, and I swear he knows 90% of Fargo. He makes me eggs & tells me terrible puns & walks my dogs & holds me when I cry sometimes because that still happens, even in the midst of all this love.
He likes how I sing, and didn’t flinch much at all when I played “The Edmund Fitzgerald” three times on our summer trip to Duluth. He loves my daughter, and she thinks he’s funny and nice and weird, which, in our family, is a ringing endorsement. He and I don’t agree on politics, in many ways, but we’ve found enough common ground that we both feel comfortable in those disagreements, and he listens and respects my perspective. He thinks I’m smart and beautiful. I think he is too.
I know dating is scary as hell, and I really believe that we can have lovely, happy lives without romantic love. But damn, I am having so very much fun.
I’ll probably blog about us more, you know. I’ll try real hard to not turn this into the Jen and Richard Love Blog, but I’m not making any promises. Besides, we are freaking adorable.