I can’t remember what inspired the conversation or what show
we were watching but Jen wanted to know what my favorite story to tell people
about her is… I went blank. I have a lot
of favorite stories—it doesn’t necessarily mean that any of them are
appropriate for just everyday conversation.
I have several stories specific to just her, or just lil man, the first
time we did “this or that” or that time when… a plethora of memories that could
be spewed from my mind trap at any given time, except apparently when put on
the spot by my partner looking for heartfelt sentiment and a little something
to make her feel loved… it’s a real
shame that I went blank and had to play it off and say that really I don’t talk
to anyone which is the truth… I don’t have many friends these days and those
that I do talk to already know those stories so I don’t tell my “favorite”
stories regularly…
So in no particular order here are some of my favorite Jen
stories/moments/memories
I took Jen down to the Outer Banks, NC for her first time a
few months after we started dating. We
officially were an item as of November 8th, 2008. I was fresh out of a rebound relationship
with a forty something “child” after a two year relationship that was a nonstop
break up make up fight/cry fest… Jen wasn’t too long out of her first lesbian
relationship where her heart had for a lack of better words been ripped to
shreds (all of this following a divorce)…
fast forward Jen’s transfer from Colorado to Virginia for work, she met
me and off we went.
A weekend trip
planned to my favorite place in the world.
Somewhere I’ve gone every year of my life several times a year since I
was born—sharing that with a woman I was falling in love with. I was taking her to Hatteras Island—Salvo to
be specific. My parents had a house
there. Not one of those fancy schmancy
houses, it was a one story simple house that was built in the fifties and used
to belong to my grandparents, but I digress.
One thing that had bothered me a little since Jen and I
started dating was that she had a necklace she wore that had been given to her
by her ex. I couldn’t understand wearing
something that was still tied to an ex, to me it was just bad “juju” but I
realized that she had to work past those demons on her own, in her own time.
I prepared Jen the best I could with how wonderful the
beach/ocean was, but secretly hoped I hadn’t oversold it to the point she’d be
disappointed. I mean, she’s from Colorado, some folks are all mountains and
snow and just don’t get down with sand and water… I explained to her about how
when you get past Grandy, NC, usually near Wright Memorial Bridge—the air
changes and your worries and cares begin to wash away. By the time you get to the actual island you barely
have any issues left and once you get your feet in the sand… nothing
matters. You’re on island time, the salt
air, sea breeze, sun, smells, everything combined—nothing matters except what
you want to.
My most proud and exciting moment was when Jen rolled down
her window when we hit the second bridge along our way, the Oregon Inlet
bridge—this particular bridge is much taller and longer than the first one to
get onto the Outer Banks.. she put down the window unexpectedly, but I just
figured she was taking in the smells… Nope she had taken the necklace off so
she could toss it into the Atlantic Ocean to never be seen again. She freed herself from her ex and all the
ties that lingered.
I took her to the see the ocean for the first time, feel the
sand in her toes for the first time, see the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse for the
first time---a plethora of first times and my favorite part was her timing… she
had pitched the “bad juju” well before Rodanthe—marking a completely untainted
fresh start for the two of us.
Incredible.
Another of my favorite memories was when I was my second
time meeting her. We met through
myspace.com back in the day when myspace was cool and started talking just as
friends. It was kind of screwed up
considering that I was in a relationship with this older chick, laying next to
her but thinking about this chick Jen (who I didn’t really know but loved
talking to and couldn’t get out of my friggin’ head)… but anyway… The first time I met her, I worked 2nd
shift so I got off at 11:30 pm and went to her town house—she was wearing yoga
pants, had a tank top with a zip up fitted hoodie zipped enough to show
cleavage, long hair pulled up in a messy ponytail and smelled like something I
wanted to have my face buried in, lol… omg it was soooo hard to behave. Jen kept biting her bottom lip and I wanted
to walk over and bite it for her. She kept
tugging at her hoodie and drawing attention to her boobs—such a total
tease. I didn’t kiss her that night, I
did give her a hug, but I texted her later and told her that I wanted to kiss
her some kind of bad and thought about turning my truck around just to kiss her…
but I behaved… and stood my ground on that one… (I can’t quite recall why)
The second meeting was at her work. She managed a movie theatre and I took my
friend Julie and a couple other friends to see Twilight or some other dumb
movie and I was sooooo nervous…. It was ridiculous. I’ve never had a great deal of game, but I
mean Jen has always had me out of sorts… but in a good way. When I saw her this time I almost fell the
hell out. She had her hair down and she
had straightened it… it was half way down her back…she had a her business
clothes on (as was the dress code for her job back then) and her glasses…which I
love… I think about that often…
I’ve since given her several makeovers got rid of her super
long hair got her used to pretty short hair and got rid of her “fake lesbo”
acrylic nails…because lets face it those things are just not conducive to the
lifestyle, lol…
My all time favorite was the look on her face when I introduced
her as my girlfriend or my partner, no matter where I was—at all times, I never
hid who she was… she wasn’t used to that.
In her other relationship she was “closeted”… not in this one… I’ve
helped her come out quite a bit and granted she’s still not nearly as out as I
am, but compared to her past, it’s like going from John Doe on the gay scale to
Ellen Degeneres on the scale… I dunno if that makes sense or not, but hey, it
makes sense to me and well that’s all that damn matters…
The moral of the story is there are plenty of stories that I
love to think about Jen—not all that I necessarily share all the time, but none
of which I should have gone blank on when Jen needed some reassurance the most…
tisk tisk tisk.
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