One Year Later

I keep tripping myself up, trying to get this entry written. I've tried to get it all down before, but the words twist away from me, and the meaning is never as plain as what I see in my head. It's gotten to the point that the title should actually be "One Year & Two Months Later", but I'm not one for splitting hairs. So I decided to just type until I think I'm done.

In July 2012, my most recent attempt at a relationship had fizzled out. The last couple of times this had happened, I had turned into a pathetic puddle of tears and spiraled deeper into depression ( a post for another day, trust me). I lost weight and sleep and withdrew further into myself till I was sure no one would ever be able to coax me out. Then someone would come along, dangling more empty words, only seeing me as a body or pretty face, and I would be naive enough to fall for it. 

This last time? It may have taken 28 years, but I finally had some steel in my soul. The closest I got to crying over him--let's call him Slimey McDoucheFace--was when I took myself to Olive Garden for a birthday lunch. I'm bad at keeping friends, so it was lunch alone. I ordered wine, so the waitress carded me. When she saw my birthdate, she immediately said, "Oh wow! It's my son's birthday today too!" She brought out a mini dessert for free after I was done with my pasta, and I just really appreciated that she was nice to me, because I was a bit miserable despite my inner monologue stating "Fine, then, if that's how it's going to be, f*ck every last one of you mother's sons!" and my heart agreeing rather than wanting to weep. After that, I felt like a kite with its strings cut, and rather than crashing back to Earth, I was realizing I could fly on my own the whole time.

Next:

SCENE CHANGE: BASEMENT OF LEGEND COMICS AND COFFEE. WEDNESDAY NIGHT. DnD ENCOUNTERS

Enter the Wook-Wook. I first met him at Krypton when he showed up for Encounters one day, playing as a halfling named Kibbles n Bits. About my height, dark hair and eyes, epic beard. I had invited several Facebook friends out for birthday drinks the previous Saturday since my birthday was on a Tuesday. He hadn't shown up and I didn't think anything of it. He walked up to me after the game and asked if I wanted to grab a drink at the Library. He claims I immediately turned bright red and I have no photographic proof to say otherwise. I stuttered out a "Yes" while the DM smirked and one of the other players chanted "DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!" Thanks guys.

Nothing stands out to me too much about that drink. It was a milk stout, probably Moojoos. We made somewhat awkward small talk since I have a -3 to my Charisma. The one thing that stood out, which I've mentioned before, was that he didn't laugh at my major.

After that, a few weeks went by. I'm bad at being able to tell if a guy is interested in me, so I didn't think anything was really going to come of that drink. According to Wook-Wook, the reason he didn't ask me out right away was because I kept running out of the basement at DnD while he was preparing the chloroformed rag. 

Once he did though, that was pretty much it. We'd go to either my house or his on weekends to have Joss Whedon marathons, getting through Firefly (still can't take the sky from me), Dollhouse (WTF was up with the series finale?!?) and Angel (nothing to say other than still perfection). We'd discuss all the most recent Cracked.com articles and get each other to read old archived ones we liked. He got me to go try hole-in-the-wall restaurants I would have probably overlooked, and I introduced him to Darren Aronofsky films.

Anyway, one year and a couple of months later, that's it. Nothing very romantic and fluffy to it aside from afternoon cuddles, no roses or poetry. Lasting love isn't all about swooning and sparkles (I'm looking at you, Twilight). The thing about fireworks is that they burn out, leaving the night just as dark as if they were never there at all. Sometimes after a long walk out in the cold alone, all you want is someone you can trust to be at home to warm you up after.