Faith, Or The Opposite Of Pride
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Mood:
Happy

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Location: Home.
Listening: "The Daily Show".

Tired, but I wanted to take a moment and say that today is the one-year anniversary of Peter and I moving in together. We fed Lucifer, went to dinner at Sushi Saurus down on 2nd St. (where we talked about submarine warfare and the hereditary title-politics of the British royal family) and are now back at home watching late-night Comedy Central. A fairly typical night for us, but as calm and comfortable as they've been in the past year.

Today was also, as coincidence would have it, my parents' 30th wedding anniversary. When I called them last year to let them know that the boy I had mentioned meeting ten days earlier was moving into my apartment, my mother reminded me that it was their anniversary. Considering that they had been together for so long, I considered it fortuitous--although I knew that Peter and I would have a very different relationship.

One year has been remarkably easy. Not in the sense that it's been effortless--love is, as I've said, "hard fucking work", and this past year has been no exception. However, any periods of potential difficulty we had never really advanced beyond the "potential" status, largely due to communication and mutual respect. I recently read about Tom Green divorcing Drew Barrymore after five months of marriage and barely ten months of dating and, hence, have been knee-deep in Hollywood gossip since. I suppose I can't understand how things can fall apart so quickly. This is a testament to how good my year with Peter has been--I used to understand, all too well, how personality conflicts and arguments can undo even the best relations. However, my perspective has somehow changed. Academically, I find it interesting. Romantically, I find it perfectly understandable. It tends to be hard to have a lasting disagreement with someone so much like oneself and whom one very literally can't help but love.

It's hard to express it fully, so I'll leave it at that. I'll simply say that, this morning, Peter classified it as "the first day of our second year". I like seeing it that way--not as a time of reflection necessarily, but a time of looking ahead. We dealt with getting to know one another as friends, roommates and lovers all at the same time and managed to make it not only work, but to be happy at the same time. I have no idea how we did it, but we did. We fit well together. We make each other laugh.

He's a beautiful person--and I'm very, very lucky to be with someone like him. I can only hope that I make him half as happy as he makes me. That's really the only way I know how to say it.



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