I haven't written anything on here for a while but I felt the inspiration to write, so I did. This is the 100% truth of my love life up until now. I hope you enjoy it. I'm not sure whether it's the right format or whether it's any good because I'm posting this at 4am and I've been writing it since 2am. :)
I'm truly a closet hopeless romantic.
As a teenager, I dreamt myself as the romanticised Regency heroine of Georgette Heyer novels and my high school years were spent wishing a romantic hero would sweep me off my feet.
My first relationship didn't work out; whether it was because I was too young, or too susceptible to someone showing an interest in me, it ended over MSN, and was initiated by him (but mostly because I'm a notorious procrastinator). My second was two bouts of five months that ended with a bang more than a fizzle, and it was only afterwards that I was made aware that, though he was a nice person, Andy was ideologically my opposite. After our relationship, he lost a whole lot of weight and is now dating a model, it's funny how life works out, but we're luckily still friends.
My third relationship is what can only be called an unmitigated disaster. I met Storm as a newly single girl (as of that morning) and for the rest of the week he slowly dragged me reluctantly into a relationship through a mixture of flattery and put-downs. It took me a couple of months to realise he was a complete and utter asshole as he ignored me around my friends, put me down all the time and tried to pressure me into the physical side of the relationship.
At every turn, I was the one in the wrong. Both of us had a grandparent die during our relationship. I lost my grandfather eleven days into the relationship and went through hell trying to cope with my own grief amongst my family in a different state whilst trying my hardest not to be a burden. My relief was the texts I sent to my close friends, though he was not counted among those worthy of that title because when I texted him one night, alone and feeling completely desolate, he sent a reply telling me that he was spending time with my friends and that he didn't know what to do because he'd gotten a boner while one of my friends was sitting on his lap.
I was lucky enough to meet his grandmother shortly before she passed away. She meant a lot to him so I tried my hardest to gain her approval. She was a nice lady and he told me afterwards that she really liked me and thought I was good for him. She passed away while I was away on school camp. At a place with sparse reception and in the middle of the bush, I was worried about him and felt that something was wrong so I trekked around in the dark and rain in my pyjamas; I risked being caught by the teachers as I sought enough reception to find out if he was okay. I didn't find out that she had died until a few days later and when he told me, the only thing I thought to say was to ask him if he was okay. I offered to be his support at the funeral but he continuously shut me out and I spent the whole day close to tears with worry for him.
In the aftermath of our breakup, he told me how horrible and unsupportive I had been, and I believed him. Disaster, I know. I tried to please him so much just to gain his attention and I once turned to physically pleasing him because he had taken me to see a movie I didn't enjoy in the slightest and I was bored and he wasn't pay me any attention. However he spent the whole time watching the movie.
I've spent four paragraphs garnering your pity and talking about when things didn't work out, but this story is happy, I swear to you. Because it was when I was fifteen that I met the love of my life. I was in a relationship at the time and I am never unfaithful, so he was my best friend for a year and a half.
The scene was a musical. It was run by a Catholic theatre company and I'd heard about the auditions in the church bulletin. I was trying something new; stepping out of my sheltered self and auditioning for a musical that I didn't know much about (It was Oliver) and preparing to meet a whole set of new people.
I didn't meet Chris until I chanced upon an amusing debate between him and someone I had met during a scene. They were debating whether music or history was more important; he on the side of music and I stood by and watched in amusement. I don't think either of them won, and I don't think I took a side, but it was my first meeting. The rest of that rehearsal was spent garnering piggy back rides from the rest of the cast (I'm small and light). He likes to tell the following story because it's less embarrassing for him, but I attempted to force a piggy back on him during a scene and it ended with a bruised leg for me and embarrassment for both of us.
The weeks went by through the musical and I got to know him. He's the sweetest and most innocent guy I have ever met. He also forgives in a heartbeat and will naively believe anything from anyone he trusts. I also grew to know that he had strong unrequited feelings for the girl he had been debating with before that had predated the musical, and had started to transfer those feelings onto me, but suppressed them when he found out I had a boyfriend. I remember the text he sent to me when he found out I had a boyfriend; "Of course a beautiful girl like you would have a boyfriend." As a hopeless romantic, the butterflies that stirred in my stomach were unavoidable and due to a lot of hinting from the rest of the cast (and a lot of protests from me that I had a boyfriend) I started to have feelings for him that were not helped by my affectionate tendencies and my desire to flirt. However, as I mentioned before, I am not a cheater and I supressed the feelings and loved Andy for who he was. Andy, however, was a very jealous boyfriend and accused a hapless Chris of grass cutting and when I broke up with him; threw in a bitter "Oh now you can go and be with Chris!"
The irony of the whole thing was that Storm said something similar when I dumped his sorry ass. That's the one time he was right about anything.
I was a flirt during the musical, flirting on stage with Chris during a scene which cumulated in a kiss on the cheek which was as close as he had been to his first kiss. I was probably mean to both he and Andy in retrospect (but now Chris has the girl and Andy's dating a model so it's all good).
Chris was one of my rocks while I coped with my grandfather's death and it's something I'll always be grateful for; the late night comforting texts and the phone calls when I was in tears.
He said that the first time he realised he treated me differently than any other friend was when he went $300 over his phone cap and got into a whole lot of trouble with his parents.
I was in relationships through the first half of our friendship so it didn't surprise me that Chris, very proud of his Polish heritage, started to fall for my Polish school friend, but due to his uncanny ability to cement himself in the friend zone and her stickler for height differences in relationships, that was never going to go anywhere.
His debating friend and long-time crush Regina once told me a story about how her friend sent him a text saying "I love you" from Regina's phone and he sent a passionate text about exactly how much he reciprocated and how he completely changed his personality when she had to tell him it wasn't her. I remembered that personality change. I think he was actually once mean to me (something I hadn't believed him capable of doing) and I hadn't known why. It broke my heart to hear that story and I knew that if I felt more for him I would have to be 100% certain because I couldn't break him like that.
The first time I met his school friends was at his end of year music students' concert. He's an amazing pianist and it was the first time I'd seen him perform, but he definitely deserved the nomination to the list of best HSC music students. I hadn't met anyone there before and he went out of his way to make me feel comfortable and not completely lost and alone. The time when I (and his friends) realised that he treated me differently was when his friend James told me that he'd completely ditched two other friends who he had invited to come along in order to look out for me (in his defence, they knew each other so they weren't completely alone).
While I was with Storm (towards the painful end of the whole ordeal), Chris and I went to see the musical Wicked together and I found myself sitting next to him wishing that it was a date and that he'd lean over and kiss me. I almost wish he had (or I had taken the initiative then) because then I would have gained a bit of my self-respect back with that win over Storm, but it meant that I was never a cheater and I didn't stoop so low.
As soon as I broke up with Storm I swore off men and decided I'd take my best friend to my formal with me and weaselled a reciprocal invitation from him. With formal still almost six months away though, there was plenty of time for things to change and when I got an inkling he was interested in a girl he had met at a Catholic conference I insisted he ask her to his so he could take someone he was interested in rather than just a friend. Their formals were on the same night so it all turned out for the best, because I realised that I was jealous as all hell and I was really hoping she couldn't go. It turned out that she wanted to ask him too, but they both missed out (luckily for me) due to the date clash.
About a month before formal he was nominated for a mobile phone photo prize and chose me to take along as his companion for the night. I was exhausted and when I'm exhausted I fall asleep on the shoulders of close friends so everyone assumed we were a couple at the event and I spent most of the night in his arms wishing that he would kiss me.
The decision to change my formal invitation to him to be one as more than a friend was made with my best friend. Alice's male best friend (who was also a massive playboy) had been trying to convince her to go out with him for ages and we made a pact to try a relationship with our best friends. We did it while sitting on a seesaw in a park between our houses and as a response to a Facebook group joined by about one hundred people and started by my friend Isobel named "If 300 people join this group, Tess will ask Chris out." Early the next morning at two am (after Chris had long gone to sleep) after a long and complicated discussion with Alice and argument with myself I decided that I had enough feelings for him to warrant asking him out.
It was one of the most nerve wracking things I ever did in my life. I sent a convoluted text to him leaving him many ways out including giving him the option to be interested in the girl who couldn't attend his formal. I knew though, that because of who he is; so sweet, innocent, unspoiled and loyal, that I had to be involved 100% and that I had to be prepared to commit to him forever. I knew that if I started dating him I would end up married to him.
He said yes. After tossing and turning until four am, I woke up to the most amazing response. This was about four days before formal and we had to meet up for lunch in order to buy him a tie that went with my formal dress the next day. We acted like friends because we didn't know how to act any way else, but something was different. The goodbye hug lingered just a little bit longer and everything he did set off herds of butterflies in my tummy.
The way we got together was uneventful. After being shy and nervous the whole of formal, we eventually ended up slow dancing at the after party (after I'd had a bit of booze) and I just reached up and kissed him. His first kiss required a bit of Dutch courage on my part, but every time I bring it up to him and apologise he kisses my forehead, looks in my eyes and tells me that it was perfect.
The rest of the night and the next day we were practically inseparable, though that next night was his formal and functioning on an hour and a half of sleep lead to me spending half the night eating and socialising with all the new people and the other half sleeping sitting down, my head on his shoulder, or sleeping standing up on the dance floor, held up only by his comparative state of alertness.
The first year of university I moved states, leaving behind my new boyfriend which was painful but bearable at first. A year and a quarter on, I can't stand it, so next year I'm moving back. Then we'll be at the same university and the distance won't leave us in tears on a bus or train when we have to say goodbye.
He knows me for all that I am; the good, the bad and the ugly and loves me for it, even when I freak out and try and push him away and tell him to go find someone who deserves him. He's perfect to me in every way even though he's not what you'd call traditionally hot, with glasses and short curly hair, but the passion I can see in his eyes when he looks at me just makes him irresistible to me.
He trusts me implicitly even though I take amusement from convincing him, in his naivety, of things like fake tan is made out of carrots or that my other best friend is a Satanist. He puts up with hours of travel to see me and all the horrible stuff that comes with long distance. He puts up with my horribly tendency to be really, really messy and I make him get rid of his pyjama pants that are held up by string because the elastic is gone and his brown leather blazer.
He survives my extreme competitiveness when it comes to Mario Kart and even thinks I'm beautiful when I feel like crap and I've got morning breath. He still finds me attractive when I got motion sick on a bus to Sydney and ended up throwing up all over myself and him and braved the taunts of the rest of the bus when he gave his shirt to me and had to walk topless to the back of the bus to get some tissues to help me clean up. He loves me unconditionally to the point that he doesn't even change his Facebook password when I get bored and move him to Swaziland and change his social networking life around for my own amusement.
We've been together now for almost a year and a half and it's the most natural thing in the world to know almost all the details of our future wedding (including the dress, cake and bridal party) and to stay up late talking about our future together.
He promises me that one day he'll seduce me with a physics related pick up line as a reminder of the morning before our physics HSC exam and the physics innuendos we traded. I don't know when he'll do it, but we've got the rest of our lives for that.
I know I'm only eighteen, but I spend my life wishing that he could be the one to cuddle me to sleep every night and to be the mother of his children and to wake up every morning and see his face. I just love him with all my heart.