I love us. That’s why I remember our kissiversary, the anniversary of our first kiss. And our sexiversary, the first time we got it on.
We felt like we were a match made in heaven, knowing still that we were a match made right here on earth, “just ordinary people,” like John Legend sang, which is why, to this day and on this day I remember our Inadversary also.
Seven years ago today. We were texting. You were staying with friends and I was at my place puttering around, feeling good, at ease in my own skin, contented and confident which is how I like to feel.
Our texts were playful. We were getting confortable in each other’s skin too, saying those daring things you don’t risk saying on a first date or really anytime until you know you’re safe. In that ease you teased, texting “I’m a little worried about your habit of flinching.”
I didn’t know what you were talking about nor, in my cheerful state did I want to think about my “habit of flinching” or whatever. I thought you were about to get psychological on my ass so I wrote back glibly. Something like “whatever you say, doc,” which bothered you. We stumbled into an out-of-sync moment.
That stuff happens between ordinary people. Sometimes we’re in the same state of mind; sometimes we’re not. Sometimes you’re feeling all cuddly when I’m not, or visa versa. Sometimes I’m serious and you’re playful, I’m down and you’re up, or visa versa. Sometimes you’re interested in exploring some detail that doesn’t interest me, or visa versa.
I like that, with us, it all averages out over the long run. But of course in any moment we’re not always going to be in a sync state of mind. What I love most is that we know it and don’t let a little inadvertent adversity throw us into wondering what’s wrong with us and whether our partner is crazy and whether we belong together.
It took a while for me to figure out that you meant flinching in my sleep, nothing more than that. It took me a while to figure out that you weren’t criticizing me and it took you a while to figure out that I wasn’t just being defensive, that in fact I can take feedback pretty well. It took a while, but not a long while, because we understand, not just each other but people in general, what goes on with ordinary people like us.
Up until then we were just singing and swinging our way through the great delight of our fresh new love. Like there couldn’t be landmines in heaven. We were in “The Wonder of Me” phase as Al Pacino called it in movie “Sea of Love,” enjoying the cheery honeymoon period.
You could say in that moment our cheery got popped. We lost our adverginity, seeing, for the first time, that, like any couple we can collide out of sync.
It wasn’t anything, really and we each figured that out pretty quickly. We processed it a little but mostly we let it slide. The disconnect melted away, what felt a little threatening to each of us in that moment didn’t get blown out of proportion. I remember you called it our “wee kerfuffle.” I liked that, ‘cause that’s all it was.
Yes, we sealed our love with a kiss on the day that marks our kissaversary, and sealed it more on the day that marks our sexiverasary. But we sealed our love most seven years ago today, the day that marks our inadversary, the day we inadvertently fell into our wee adversarial kerfuffle. We fell in, but we climbed out. And with such great grace.
We were falling in love, and on that day seven years ago, we got real, which is why I’ve been real in love with you ever since.
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