The first time we met it was over jalapeno margaritas and queso.
No, no the first time we met it was over craigslist (not women seeking women).
Wait, I take that back, the first time I met Courtney was at a barre class.
Me: I like your pants.
I’m having a difficult time saying what I need to say without it sounding like a lesbian romance novel. Well. That’s not what this is. Sorry if this brings about a wave of disappointment. A.) Because you wanted a steamy lesbo scene or B.) Because you’d finally have proof that my affinity for overalls and boyfriend jeans was because I’ve always wanted to be "the man" in the relationship.
She met Nic as I was learning how to forget him. Or at least learning how to phase him out. I couldn’t see it at the time, because I was sitting on the situation. Sleeping with it. Married to the despair of it all. Carrying it around with me everywhere I went, but I was getting everything I needed. Exactly how I needed it. Even though it didn’t feel that way.
But life didn’t shortcut me or discount my situation, but rather it packaged what I needed in a beautiful box. A box covered with wrapping paper that my Grandmother would have refused to tear, instead would remove with care to save for a later date.
Courtney uses words like "cuties" and "tootie".
Cuties means I like that.
Tootie means vagina.
She owns a monogrammed shower curtain, whole heartily believes in Sunday best, and loves a boy who stashed dead elk in our freezer.
She’s passionate about brunch in a way a Northerner will never quite understand, and refused to believe me when I told her I hated shrimp. Any time the opportunity to order "Peel n' Eat" Shrimp as an appetizer presented itself she took it.
I made friends with a true “bless your heart” Georgia gal.
Like any relationship, you can’t count the important intricate details, explain what they meant to you, or why they were so monumental. Partially because it would take too long, and because you don’t know exactly what they meant or why those moments carried so much weight.
Knowing “What's next?” and “Why that?” isn’t important. Knowing you are getting exactly what you need when you need it is important.
That’s what you reminded me. I needed that. More than you know. More than I knew. I love you and shrimp.
Bless your heart,