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Sunday, September 11, 2005
This Sunday's Swirling Thoughts
You try having a relationship with the most beautiful woman you've ever met, who just happens to live almost exactly on the other side of the world from you: in an equidistant place on the other side of the equator; on the other side of the globe, in a diametrically opposite season of the year, not to mention seventeen hours in the future from here. Try it sometime. To put it succinctly, it ain't easy.
But, like I started out saying, she's fucking gorgeous. Remarkably, unbelievably gorgeous. And when I say that, I'm not just talking looks. I mean, cummon, if that were all I meant by saying, "she's the most beautiful woman I've ever met", first of all, I'd be a pretty fucking shallow person, and secondly, honestly, if that were all I was looking for, I could find a million physically phenomenal specimens here on my own continent, in my own country, in my own state... hell, in my own city, for that matter.
But that's just it: she's gorgeous in both the obvious and far less tangible ways. She is intelligent, well-spoken, gregarious, charming, witty, funny (AND punny), accepting, forgiving, creative, ingenious, stylish, patient, gentle, sensitive, thoughtful, silly, talented, artistic and she smells good. And, like I mentioned, she's on the other side of the fucking world.
The fact is, if that were the whole story, it wouldn't be any more interesting than the things I've said so far. "Duh!", right?
But, since we met on Hot Or Not back in September of last year, and since we fell in love on chat (yeah, fell in love on chat), and since we met in June in Melbourne and spent two of the best weeks I've had all year together; it's become something more than an interesting antecdote to be dropped on new acquaintances at parties. It's become a real and true love (cue strings, key in cherubs strumming lyres).
She's my best friend. She's my lover. She's the one I want to share my bed and my house with for the rest of my life. She's the woman who thinks the way I think, feels the way I feel, says things the way I say them and also wants to have my children. She's the one who will make my house a home and, damn, that's good.
We talk just about every day. We chat every day. We go crazy when we don't get that time together and we go crazy when we DO get that time together. We say the same things at the same times too many times to count.
Now it's just a matter of figuring out which continent we'll live on.
But, like I started out saying, she's fucking gorgeous. Remarkably, unbelievably gorgeous. And when I say that, I'm not just talking looks. I mean, cummon, if that were all I meant by saying, "she's the most beautiful woman I've ever met", first of all, I'd be a pretty fucking shallow person, and secondly, honestly, if that were all I was looking for, I could find a million physically phenomenal specimens here on my own continent, in my own country, in my own state... hell, in my own city, for that matter.
But that's just it: she's gorgeous in both the obvious and far less tangible ways. She is intelligent, well-spoken, gregarious, charming, witty, funny (AND punny), accepting, forgiving, creative, ingenious, stylish, patient, gentle, sensitive, thoughtful, silly, talented, artistic and she smells good. And, like I mentioned, she's on the other side of the fucking world.
The fact is, if that were the whole story, it wouldn't be any more interesting than the things I've said so far. "Duh!", right?
But, since we met on Hot Or Not back in September of last year, and since we fell in love on chat (yeah, fell in love on chat), and since we met in June in Melbourne and spent two of the best weeks I've had all year together; it's become something more than an interesting antecdote to be dropped on new acquaintances at parties. It's become a real and true love (cue strings, key in cherubs strumming lyres).
She's my best friend. She's my lover. She's the one I want to share my bed and my house with for the rest of my life. She's the woman who thinks the way I think, feels the way I feel, says things the way I say them and also wants to have my children. She's the one who will make my house a home and, damn, that's good.
We talk just about every day. We chat every day. We go crazy when we don't get that time together and we go crazy when we DO get that time together. We say the same things at the same times too many times to count.
Now it's just a matter of figuring out which continent we'll live on.
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