Happy anniversary to me (and Charles)

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730Ĺ days ago Charles and I took possession of our home. In less than four months Iíd met, fallen in love with, wooed, taken home and finally bought a home with Charles. To be honest the house buying was Charlesí idea.

Home ownership wasnít anything that wouldíve occurred to me in my ragged, semi-boho days. For several years Iíd lived with Gordon paying half his property tax for rent ($75 a month I think).

The last two years have been rich in incident: variously confused, silly, bleak, mind-fuckingly scary. I canít lie and not pretend there were times I feared Iíd made the worst decision of my life. Those of you whoíve shared the portions of my life Iíve allowed into my Live Journal have had various inklings of that.

Through blind desire, inflamed stubbornness, faith in Charles, crazy hope, and mostly magnificent luck Iíve been rewarded rather than damned. Iím looking back at a long stretch of months when our life together became steadily better.

Not a fairy tale ending, not yet, anyway. If nothing else monetary need is a terror. Parts of our life together have yet to reach perfect harmony. But we can hope with sane confidence to achieve the marriage of true minds.

And thereís the unequivocal delight of being in love and being loved in return. (I think I acquired my addiction to balanced clauses from reading Samuel Johnson in my teen years.)

A long and funny trail. At eighteen I discovered my need for romantic love. By twenty Iíd disabused myself of the notion. At twenty-five I thought Iíd found it. Come thirty I decided it would be better to die of a heart attack than risk heartache.

Sixteen years later I met Charles.

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Please share your feelings about Happy anniversary to me (and Charles).
Thanks,
Richard

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