The best time to write about someone you live with has to be when they aren't even around, right?
Rewind to last year.
My initial trip to England was decided upon reconnecting with a distant relative of mine on Facebook. He and his family has visited our neck of the woods back when we were in our early teens, and after several conversations involving catching up on life (he was since married, and had a little boy; I felt old), we joked about me coming to visit England. My British grandmother had passed away, and oddly it felt like a nice homage to her; the cousin's grandmother and mine were sisters, and he still lived in the city they grew up in. Eventually the joking around became, "no, really, you should come visit", and ever the adventurer, I concurred. In a joking motion, I told him I was going to add every male on his friends list to mine, so that I could pick out my birthday gift of course (as I would be spending the celebratory day in his country). With his amused compliance, I did just that; several unknown men were added to my tiny Facebook page, based entirely on my opinion of their single profile picture.
One of those happened to be a sales engineer/drummer in my cousin's band; yes, the jackpot for any self-respecting female - a musician with a day job. I was in love before he even accepted my friend request.
We began talking in that dreadful little pop-up chat window during my painfully long evening shifts at work. As it turned out, we were both fresh out of relationships that ended badly, and seamlessly our conversations became nightly ritual. We would talk for hours about music, films, our travels, and it was much easier to get over our ex's with the help of someone who wasn't physically around to complicate things further. With that, I booked my plane tickets. At least there was one seemingly good catch in all of the UK, I thought; clearly there would be thousands where he came from, and I was a single woman on a mission.
That is, until his Facebook status changed one day from 'Single' to 'In a Relationship'. I was angered, and truthfully considered refunding my flights until I realised how entirely pathetic that would have been - who in the hell cancels a vacation because a random guy from the Internet has a girlfriend, anyway? So off I went in July, prepared to ignore him for two weeks while snogging every male with a side-bang in sight.
It didn't exactly turn out that way, and by the end of my first week in the country we were bouncing on a trampoline in the middle of the night after my 'birthday night out' with the girls, soaking with rain and laughing until our sides hurt.
We've been inseparable ever since.
He visited Canada twice after my vacation ended, and by December I was quite certain he would be worth the relocation to the UK.
Luckily, I was right, and we got engaged one day before our one year anniversary, which happens to also be my birthday (it was impossible to say no - he put the ring in a bag of McDonald's breakfast).
As it stands, things are working out. I found a great job after three hellish months of being unemployed, during which time The Boy got me a dog (who I will write about at another time - there is no way that circus animal story can fit in this entry), and we're now planning our wedding (which WILL take place back on home soil) and waiting impatiently for Christmas in Canada.
This country drives me to the brink of insanity at times... but he makes it worth it.
He even makes up for the gigantic goddamn house spiders.
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