My existence is a life-long treasure hunt.

The Story of Us

Back in my birthday post, some of y’all requested this story so here’s a summary!
1997. Freshman year of high school. 13 years old. Whispers rustle like leaves in a whirlwind about who would make a good couple; a cute couple. A silver metal ball rolls through a tube with two names, Minority Report style (you’d have to see the movie to get it). Crabby and Gem, the ball read. Forces, teenage forces set up events. Approximately November 2007, cafeteria, lunchtime. I am sitting with a group of chatterboxes. I am wearing a pale yellow short-sleeved top. My hair is straight back in a gold headband. Cover Girl shimmery gold eyeshadow sparkles ever so cuntily subtly on my eyelids. A guy everyone knows walks over with Crabby. The guy doofily introduces us. I’m facing away from the table, leaning casually back on my elbows, meeting Crabby’s gaze head-on. Surprisingly calm for someone who was a ball of nerves minutes ago. We say hello. It is all brief and over. Somehow we’re talking on the phone sometime later, getting to know each other (or what you can know at 13 and 14). Thanksgiving Break 1997. My home phone rings. Caller ID reveals the call (Caller ID was THE SHIT when it first came out). He asks to “go together” (remember that phrase y’all?). I say yes. Giddy inside. First boyfriend. First kiss. I go to the basketball games that he plays in and I am like a rare Pokemon in the wild. His family sees me, whispers. Others whisper. I feel regal. As regal as you can feel in Tommy Hilfiger winter wear (HOLLA!). His grandmother calls me “Purple Girl” (both our favorite color). Time passes. Shyness gets the best of me. I retreat. He ends it. My first breakup. I was wearing a purple T-shirt with green jersey style writing. Hair in a high ponytail. Staring into a soda can during the breakup. Silent. More whispers after. Teenage drama and heartache.
 
More time passes. He attends different schools from that one after freshman year. We talk/date off and on. When we’re off, someone or another is always telling me they saw him here or he said to tell you hi and other words on the wind. I can’t shake him but I never show it. People, even (especially?) young people are sharks. No blood, no chum for you sharks. Not from me. I knew that even then. We have some really good times, some really fun times, and I have some really shitty times. Standard for high school I suppose. But I never could shake him. Never showed it.
 
We lose touch after high school except sporadic sightings or conversations. 2004. I am working at a bookstore and attending college. I see one of his closest friends. Said friend silently passes words on the winds. One morning, goofing around with my crew he resurfaces. I am startled, shaken, but play it cool. We begin a friendship. Soon we’re spending a lot of time together, either in person or on the phone. Lunches are brought. Simpsons, Family Guy, The Sopranos and The Practice are watched. I ask him about his feelings for me. He says they are present, but he doesn’t want to be in a relationship right now. I understand. Friendship continues without a hiccup. December 24, 2004 it snows for the first time in about a decade. I am working and think of him. I call, we talk. Due to various mis-understandings and unfortunate events and timing, friendship continues all the way throughthe  summer of 2005.
 
August 2005. He is in a rental bind. His intended apartment screwed him over as a tenant. Nowhere else to go. I live in a 2-bedroom apartment (making it rain with bookstore wages). I offer. A few days later he accepts. We’re roomies. Friendship is so tight at this point. Real pals. Lines are blurred. We eat, watch TV, sleep together. He transfers to the college I attend so we go to school together too. We watched evacuees from Katrina enter Houston weary, walking-distance from our apartment. We go to Whataburger, see them walking the streets like zombies. It’s surreal. Hurricane Rita looms. Almost everyone is evacuating. He is packing to go with his family. I feel a pang watching him pack and don’t want to go through this without him. I tell him. He tells me to come with. We end up staying because people are straight actin’ fools on the evacuation tip. People stuck in traffic for days. Old people and pets dying in cars. People running out of gas in the hot sun. We go to his friend’s apartment, where friend is living with pregnant girlfriend. We go grocery shopping together then camp out there. We bond. October 2008, a turning point is reached with him that indirectly affects me. Friend line blurred even more. Words of love are exchanged, but relationship hesitancy (for good reasons) are expressed. Aforementioned friend and pregnant girlfriend give birth. They come home from hospital, we visit. There’s something magical in the air. December 10, 2005. We get back home, sit on the bed, chatting. He looks at me, asks “Who are we fooling?” That moment. Lines no longer blurred. We are together. We are a couple.
 
December 10, 2006 we marry.
 
December 10, 2009 we have been a couple for 4 years and married for 3 years. Still going. Partners. Laughs. Tears. Yells. Snugglez. Meals. This year saw a definite change in discourse. We discussed THINGS and STUFF that we hadn’t before. Ready to build foundations now. Green light.
 
Happy anniversary to us.
 
 
 
One of our jams
Advertisements

Comments on: "The Story of Us" (10)

  1. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!

    I love it. Y’all so cunty.

    *throws metallic confetti in the air*

  2. Very interesting story…loved it. Thanks for sharing.

  3. #timetogetsicknfilthy YAAAAAAASSSSSSSSS!

    minicorn on deck soon, i hope…love this story.

  4. awwwwww very nice. Love that pose with the wedding cake

  5. Happy Anniversary, Sweetie! This is really awesome story to share. I enjoyed reading it. Great photos! Especially the black and white.

    I wish the two of you many more years of celebration and marital bliss.

  6. Look I wanna read say something sweet and postitive but I fucking wunt: YOU drew First blood with this :

    “Cover Girl shimmery gold eyeshadow sparkles ever so cuntily..”

    “and I am like a rare Pokemon in the wild.”

    ” I feel regal. As regal as you can feel in Tommy Hilfiger winter wear”

    ***SIDEYE* and Faces Such as >:-I

    How you gonna pimp-pose in black and white with yo cake like you are trina and you just told Silkk “That’s Coo”??

  7. I was gonna be all “awwww” and “how beautiful” and then you gangsta posed in your wedding photo. In B&W.

    Therefore, I have no words for you OR crabby.

    (Happy anniversary, fools!)

  8. happy anniversary!!
    love this story so much. “Tommy Hilfiger winter wear (HOLLA!).” LOLLLL

    why is called Crabby?

  9. Awwwwwww!!!

    Tears among the laughs while reading this. How beautiful…simply beautiful…makes me want to sing…alone…because my singing voice…is horrible…

    …anyways…

    CONGRATS!!!!!

  10. Alicia: How you gonna call us cunty and you come in with metallic confetti?! That’s why I luh you.

    Lina: Thank you dahling!

    KB: You needed not to have broughten hash tagz into this. iWONT. Iono when minicorn development will begin, but 2010 should reveal when we can start thinking about it at least.

    KM: Thank you! 🙂

    CO: Thank you soooo much!

    QQ: And yet no matter what I throw out there you continue to respond in kind? “Wunt”?! “first blood”?! and I already pointed out the pot and kettle relationship with your mention of Trina and Silkk taking it to Juneau Alaska on you hoes.

    Jaded: I would like to point out to the court AND YOU AND QQ that the PHOTOGRAPHER chose black and white for that particular photo, NOT US! *snoop dogg voice* I’m innocent…innocent…innocent

    Chanel: Girllll you know Tommy Hilfiger was the shit in the 90s! He is called Crabby because he is a Cancer (the crab) and has a crabby disposition to people on surface level.

    BCU: Now I wanna hear your warbles. I bet it sounds majestic.

    Thank y’all!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Tag Cloud

%d bloggers like this: