“Um, how did I pick you up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, a friend asked me how we met and I couldn’t remember how I got you to start talking to me.”

“You told them that you took me home as a hookup, didn’t you…”

“Yup.”

“Oh good, then I don’t have to pretend otherwise. Pretty much, your dog picked me up, not you.”

“Unsurprising…”

“Yeah, he tried to eat something in my purse and you pulled him away and apologized. I called him special and you told me not to be tactful, that he was just straight up retarded. I liked your sarcasm so I sat down next to you.”

“That was it?”

“Well, you also used ‘fuck off’ as a command, which I found hilarious. Once your dog stopped trying to eat my things, we sat and talked for like four hours before you invited me to go hang out at your place. Then we sat at your table and talked for another two hours or so. What I don’t remember is how we went from talking to banging.”

“Yeah, I have no clue either.”

“Whatever, you’re the best bad decision I’ve ever made.”

And it’s true. He is.

I’ve spent almost a month trying to figure out how to write about him and about our relationship. It wasn’t until I said that phrase to him that I finally figured out how to describe it well. I made every possible mistake with him and made all the moves that the dating books say not to make. Yet, when I kiss him goodbye in the morning so that he has to feel my pain of waking up early too, I can’t manage any regret about how he became my boyfriend.

Happy Early Valentine’s Day to all!!!

The rest of the story shall follow…