It’s like something out of a movie. Boy and girl meet in primary school, cue the meet-cute music, and become best friends. She defends him from bullies, he invites her over for dance parties. They share secrets and feel like finally they have a friend who understands them. Then suddenly, without a word, he’s gone. Vanished back to his hometown and they lose each other. With the arrival of social media they try to find one another, but both use aliases! Until facebook. There’s an email and a teary reunion, nine years since they’ve seen each other as children, and they still have so much in common and he’s happening to be visiting in ten days for the first time in four years. Cue the meeter-cuter music. They spend the day together, it’s perfect. And then the story really begins.
I think both of us have spent far too many moments pondering the eternal question ‘no seriously how is this my life?!‘ but in the past ten years since we reconnected, and nearly twenty since we first met, it really has played out like a dream come true. And it never ceases to humour and astound us how much discursive trouble our relationship gets us into.
Valentine’s Day is traditionally an occasion for romantic couples, which we are not, but here’s the big deal: I don’t care what capitalist codswallop flogging the inadequacies of my independence have to remark, nor how many other people are vying for the delight and privilege of being your Valentine. You, Phoenix, are my Valentine. So this one’s for you…and for those of you playing along at home, still cluing in as to how a committed relationship between two platonic parties could possibly be a thing.
It’s always such a thrill to hear people bandy about words like love and trust about people they’ve known for all of three orgasms. But deep unyielding trust builds over time, and is strengthened, not shrunk, after being fractured. I can’t say we’ve fought, but we’ve thrived through drama and disappointment by being open beyond our own pride and getting to the root of what we need from each other to move forward, and delivering that to the best of our ability. She often tells me she’s not scared of my darkness, and I know I’ve shed some light on hers.
Compatibility often comes down to having the right things in common, and the right things in contrast. We’ve both been through very similar things in our lives, but have grown from those in different ways. It’s that typical ’rounding out’ where we can rely on each other to provide the perspective we need honestly, knowing that the time will come around we’ll need to hear it back to us. One of the best parts of our relationship is the freedom to challenge each other and ask for what we want from each other, and expect participation to make that happen.
Then of course, it helps to have a healthy serving of laughter. Seriously lady you make me laugh like a loon on loon tablets. You have split so many of my sides, and we take almost psychotropic delight when we do pressure down. I think this really is the key, is that ability to not only drop down into the deepest discussions and despairing equations, but also find each other far funnier I fear than we may actually be. Oh well.
Then there’s of course the thing that takes a relationship from stable, from fruitful, to pure sparkle: encouragement. As much as we challenge each other, we know how to encourage and celebrate each other. Goodness knows that has transcended to the odd bit of financial support as well. I once told you that the only way I was ever going to meet someone is if they took a look and went “yeah, what a weirdo, that’ll work!” and your response was that the right person doesn’t actually find you weird at all, they just love you right off the bat. Couldn’t have put it better myself.
While we’re on the topic of meeting people, I appreciate that it’s complicated to make sense of why two people who love, support, co-habit and plan a future together can not be having sex, but here’s the secret: WHEN IT IS BEDTIME, WE DON’T DO IT. We are more than willing, in fact we’re hoping, to accommodate a person in each other’s lives who brings that romance, intimacy along with love and support. But how people can expect that once you hook up with one of us, that the other goes off duty, or that our years and years of trust and trauma will conveniently scatter to the wind will always confound me. The happiness we craved and cried for, we have found with each other, and there’s no chance in hell we’re giving it up; we’ll transform it to involve other people and share the love and happiness, but to love us means to love the parts of us the other has helped to build. So be grateful and lets get to kissing!
Most people who know me understand that I struggle with the whole ‘together’ thing and due to a series of unfortunate circumstances, I’ve historically not been involved in too many relationships. I’m still coming to terms with what it means for us to be in each other’s lives, because I fall into the same traps of not seeing us for what we are, soulmates. The reality is that if we were same-sex partners, everyone would be on board. But we’re not, and that permits us to find other means to create value in our relationship. Who knows what the future holds for us, but here’s all that needs to be known:
Phoenix, you make me happier than far too many people wanted me to believe I could be. You make me excited for the future, and your presence gives me the strength to tackle so many things. Your honesty has helped my friends be bolder with me, your caring has helped my family relax about my choices, and I just think you’re all about it. I love you Brow Bae. Crack Pussy. Vvife. P. Phi. You’re it.
PS thank you to every reader who has reached out. I know these latest ones have seemed a little self-served, but I need to do that at the moment. Establish myself, evacuate those things about me I want to share. It’s part of a bigger picture I promise. I also promised I wouldn’t do announcement things, so just enjoy and please be one of those people who feels encouraged to be you and fight for whatever makes you happy and contributes to the happiness of the collective. We need that. Happy Valentine’s Day.
PS. Babe 11 years is jewellery. Or if you count the lost years, 28 is orchid!