Happy Returns

Y’all, I just had the happiest month of my life.

I know it seems like I exaggerate sometimes but I’m just a passionate person, so while these superlatives may seem grandiose to you, they are quite genuine from me.

Anyhootenanny, my beloved boyfriend came back to New Zealand to spend Christmas and New Year’s with me. I was a nervous Nancy when I went to pick him up at the airport. I had the sort of panic (not that this has ever happened to me) that one gets when one goes shopping alone and, boldly tries on a dress which is slightly smaller than one’s usual size because it was on sale and, after deciding with a critical eye that the dress simply does not suit, realizes that it was a very bad idea to zip it up all the way. The panic really sets in when one realizes:

1. one cannot stop breathing long enough,
2. thinking thin thoughts won’t make one’s hips slimmer, and
3. dislocating a shoulder is painful and doesn’t guarantee success.

The panic then deepens when one begins to debate the merit of calling a salesperson for help, thereby exposing one’s sweaty, red-faced state, hairy armpits and mismatched underwear OR ripping the dress and evading the real or imagined “Haha, you’re fatter than you think” smirk from women waiting in line for the dressing room. That sort of panic.

Or, to simplify, you can imagine the sort of panic you would feel if you left your firstborn infant son on the ground, walked 100 feet away to get some diapers from the car and saw a dingo charging toward him or a dub step-blasting, neon yellow Hummer backing up in his direct path. Point is, I was really fucking panicked, okay?

I just kept thinking stupid thoughts like, “What if he thinks I’m fat?” or “This visit is months in the making, I have so many hopes riding on this. Fuck I hope we don’t bump foreheads when we kiss the first time because that would just ruin evvverything,” or “How am I going to fart or poop while he’s here? What if I do a bang-up job of holding my farts all day but I end up farting non-stop in my sleep? What if I become so constipated that I need to go to the hospital?”

Well good news, pals. After this heaven-sent month I no longer have any of these fears. First of all, he says he doesn’t think I’m fat. I’m pretty sure he’s not lying because Germans are commonly known to be brutally honest. Secondly, we didn’t bump heads. We bumped noses…but it was kind of cute. Thirdly, I got so drunk on New Year’s that I threw up multiple times while it was still daylight and he carried me to the bathroom, whence I requested he depart — and even though I had a suspicion he hadn’t really left (I think because he was worried I would pass out and crack my skull open), I was drunk enough not to really give a damn and so let loose, wiped, and passed out. If he heard what I think he heard, then we’re way past the point of trivial things like the fact that I’m human.

I apologize for my crudeness. I joke because Patrick’s gone now and my sadness is unbearable. I can’t sleep because I keep searching for him in my sleep. I can’t focus on conversations because I keep thinking of all the small but hugely significant ways he showed me his love. I can’t bring myself to throw away the garbage in my room because it has garbage that he left behind.

OMG is that like a Freudian thing? Am I afraid he’ll leave me behind like so much garbage?

I apologize for the self-psychoanalysis. I’m just madly in love with a man who flew to the farthest reach of the planet to be with me. How romantic is that?! But now I have a whole new set of reasonable fears. Like what if he breaks up with me or cheats on me? I know I shouldn’t think about such things, but it’s hard not to be afraid of losing something that precious and rare.

New Zealand has some of the most beautiful landscapes in the world. Patrick and I drove around the North Island to take in all the breathtaking views. There were tropical flowers, crystal blue waters and sunsets that made you think the sun was melting into the ocean.

And yet…the most beautiful thing I can remember from the trip is his green-brown eyes and how they looked into me when I looked into them.