I can remember the first time I met him.
I hadn’t really been looking, I guess that was the irony of it. You’re not even looking for that special someone but that’s when you meet them. There you were, happy, settled, in a routine and life is good. You don’t feel the need to share your life. You wonder if you really want to rock the boat, or have the energy to invest in a new relationship. Do you really long for someone and for them to want you in return, or feel the need to be needed? Then you hear your friends talk about how happy they are, how much their lives have changed and you think ‘Well maybe I need that too’.
I just remember walking into the room. I didn’t see him straight away but when I looked around I realised his eyes were fixed on mine. He didn’t look away; he wasn’t shy or embarrassed at being caught staring at me. There were others there too, milling about the room, coming in and out, but somehow it just seemed like there was only him and I there. He watched me as I walked across the room, I knew it, I could feel it. And when I turned round to check, there he was, still staring. And then I smiled and he got up and came over to me. And that was it I guess, I fell in love, just like that.
And more importantly, and I suppose this was the real clincher, I felt him fall in love with me. And there is something so wonderful about that beautiful, uncomplicated, devoted love. The fact that he was so handsome, with his soft brown eyes and thick wavy hair was a bonus, but it was his complete love for me that really swept me away.
He was younger than me when we met. He was still living at home with his family, and I used to visit them until we decided the time was right and we took the big step, and he moved in with me. I spent ages getting the house ready, trying to anticipate his every need, buying a new bed, towels, the kind of food he liked, so he would feel happy, welcome and at home. I didn’t want him to feel out of place, or doubt my love or feel that it was too big a step. My worst fear was that he wouldn’t be happy with me. But that is the anxiety that often accompanies such a deep and compelling love.
So now, here we are, still living together two years later. I love him so much. I never thought it possible but I love him more with every passing day, I feel my heart will burst, and I know he loves me. It is in his every movement, his every gesture, the way he looks at me. He is so loving and caring, and very protective of me but not in a controlling or suffocating way, only with kindness and concern.
We share a lot of the same interests which helps. He loves the garden too, and we love long walks in the country, visiting pubs, meeting up with friends or just sitting and cuddling on the sofa. And the best bit of all is how we know each other so well, we really can read each other minds, we are so attuned to each other.
Sometimes I don’t even have to say anything, I just look at him and smile while putting on my coat and he jumps up immediately from whatever he is doing and races to get his lead. I don’t even need to tell him; he just knows. It’s time for walkies!