This post is the yin to my previous post’s yan. The bittersweet tinge to the humourous facade.
Dave and I met at secondary school. In my first post I explained that we didn’t really know each other for a number of reasons. We weren’t in the same ‘band’ so we never shared classes, we didn’t move in the same social circles, and he was the bad boy and I was the good girl. But a chance meeting when I transferred back home to my local uni from a uni in a different part of the country led to us meeting up for a drink at a bar in town, which has now sadly disappeared.
There are only 2 things I remember about our actual first date:
1) Thinking how drop dead gorgeous he was in his fitted white t shirt, loose jeans, leather jacket, and shaved head. His arm tattoo was on show, his ear was pierced and he had a naughty glint in his eye. That’s because I quickly learned he is a kinky bastard. He also smelt AMAZING.
2) How I tried to impress him by carrying too many things from the bar and dropping my own drink and smashing it all over the floor, but saving his pint of Guinness. Priorities right there.
It wasn’t love at first sight. It was horny lust. I thought he would be a bit of fun, a laugh, a boyfriend to have whilst I was getting settled back into my home city again and enjoying my last 2 years of uni. I wasn’t expecting him to be my best mate, my soul mate. My love.
I can’t remember what we talked about (Dave actually has a better memory of our early dates and sex life than I do!) but we walked back to my car at the end of the night. We were in a secluded spot and we just snogged each other’s faces off. It was embarrassing. It was like we were randy teenagers. I suppose that wasn’t far off wrong as I was 20, about to turn 21, and he was already 21. We were driven by hormones (and that’ll explain how our second date involved us going out for a meal where I decided to not wear any knickers – which came in handy when we had sex in the back of his car at the end of the night and got disturbed by an ambulance coming to park up down a dark lane… Yup.)
Anyway, at the end of our disgustingly sloppy kiss, I then dropped Dave off back home in my beat up student runaround M-reg Peugeot 205 Turbo.
Fast forward 10 years and we’ve…
Travelled (to various points around the UK, France, Tunisia, Morocco, Egypt, New York, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Hawaii, San Francisco and Italy – with my parents);
Lived apart at our respective parents’ houses;
Lived apart in a long-distance relationship for a year;
Lived together on our own;
Lived with my parents for 16 months to save up money;
Bought a house;
Both experienced unemployment at some point;
Endured shit with his family and the police;
Survived him starting up his own business;
Nearly split up – twice;
Made a million happy, blissful, amazing, wonderful memories together.
But the icing on the cake, the cherry on top, the aching hole in our hearts that is missing, is a baby.
We’re ready. It took me about 9 years to be ready (Dave was ready for children after our first date to be frank!) but now I am more than ready. We’re in love. We’re stable. We have a home. We’re financially comfortable. We have a lot of love to give.
But our jigsaw puzzle is incomplete. We opened the box a year ago but saw that the crucial piece for the centre was missing. We’ve turned the house over looking for that piece. The picture is ruined without it.
But we’ll keep looking. We’ll find it. We’ll complete our jigsaw puzzle.