Six months ago, I convinced a guy to go out with me on a Wednesday evening for a first date instead of waiting till the weekend. I had only been talking to him for three days, but I didn’t want to wait any longer. Patience isn’t one of my virtues.

I took him to my favorite Mexican restaurant in Baltimore and we walked around. We drove to a sculpture garden and he kissed me while I was stuck sitting on top of a marble horse. As we walked back to the car, we came around a corner and the trees cleared from our line of sight. We both gasped simultaneously at a face we saw in the clouds and I knew I was in trouble.

The second time we were in each other’s presence, I was introduced to his amazing group of friends and we all watched record-breaking fireworks on top of his roof. I’ve always been extremely weird about sleeping in front of people and I don’t even spend the night over friends’ houses. But that night, after one of the most amazing days ever, I looked at him and said “I don’t want to go home”. So I didn’t.

Despite things like our astrological signs and Myers Briggs personality types being an exact match for each other, I really just couldn’t stop wanting to be around him. I introduced him to my friends, we planned outings, and we ate at least one thousand burgers. He doesn’t even get cheese on his burgers and I still kept falling for him.

We made things official, and the amount of glitter and confetti residue in his room continued to accumulate. I’ve had a number of new experiences with him over this last half of a year, and I’ve loved them all. I’m seriously taken on this man, and I have no intention of going anywhere.

He’s a perfect balance of simplicity and interesting. He makes everything easier, but he’s nowhere near boring. He embraces new things and my personal brand of weird. And most of all, he’s loving, supportive, and non-judgmental. I love him a lot, and I hope he knows that.

To celebrate this milestone that I’m sure is childish to make note of (I know six months isn’t a long time in the scheme of things, I promise) I made a few pages in my art journal and sent his friends care packages to let them know how much I’ve enjoyed hanging out with them these past months.

I love you, Joe.

I don’t get many things right the first time. In fact, I am told that a lot. Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls brought me here and where was I before the day that I first saw your lovely face? Now I see it everyday, and I know that I am the luckiest. [listen]

[edit] Last night we drove past the Mexican restaurant and he pointed and said “First date”. He reminded me that I had a raspberry margarita and chicken and corn quesadilla that night. I then asked him what else he remembered about our first date and he produced an “uhmm”. I’m severely into the fact that he could recite the flavors of my food but didn’t remember where he first kissed me for at least two minutes of thinking.