Delinquent Eggs: Mr. Delinquent

Mr. Delinquent

Mr. Delinquent and I celebrated our anniversary earlier this week. We toasted it with a bottle of champagne and a takeaway curry. We spent it watching previously recorded episodes of the Jon Stewart show while Wonder Dog slept at our feet. It was a perfect evening, in other words. Although we lived together for various days before getting hitched, we became "official" two years ago on an Italian lake in the front of our families.

Here we are making a getaway after the civil ceremony: I was one for days before meeting Mr. Delinquent, and fairly sure that I would stay that way (the fact that I was so confident of this gives me trust in my cynical moments now because it means I`m a really poor predictor of events). Although I was often lonely I also valued my independence: the fact that I came and went as I pleased, made decisions unilaterally, ate some of my meals standing at the kitchen stove.But when I met Mr. Delinquent, everything changed. I was smitten. What I felt for him went - and goes - to the bone. Sometimes, I marvel what my spirit would be similar if we hadn`t both been in a certain bar that night, in a city where neither of us were living. (I mean about those Pulp lyrics: When we woke up that morning we had no way of knowing/That in a thing of hours we'd change the way we were going. After that night, I didn`t need to be alone anymore and I have never looked backward at that independent spirit with yet a bit of regret. The preceding few days have been hard ones, but I wouldn`t trade them. We`ve eaten more than our just percentage of salt, but the way has been easier because we`ve had each other. He is kind, and funny, and smart. He`s held my mind above the water through some horrible, big waves. He has held on tightly when I`ve been disgusted with grief, when I`ve told him that I suffer so seriously that I wanted to creep out of my skin. Today, when I see him across a room, what I find is overwhelming. I am dumbfounded by my fate at being here - in this wicked and beautiful world - with him. _________________________________We allow for Upper Goatlandia tomorrow. A sitter will be watching Wonder Dog and though I am tied up in knots about it, I love that he will be in safe hands. We`ll visit several of my favorite relatives, as well as a few of my old haunts. We`ll spend portion of the clock in Lower Goatlandia, as well, which is blest with sea, mountains, olive groves, long walks, hours of reading, good food and lovely wine. But, alas, very little internet. So I`ll be abstracted from blogland for the following ten years are so. Take care, all of you.