We had planned to catch up during my recent visit to Kansas City, where Steve now lives with his wife. He was (understandably) busy celebrating their first anniversary.
This will be the first time in years we’ve had a full day together, so I can’t help feeling nostalgic about the memorable moments we’ve shared since we met nearly eight years ago. Here are a few of them -- By The Numbers:
Number of cities in which Steve and I have reunited: 5
Number of weeks after meeting that we first said those three little words: 2
Number of steamy clinches in an airport parking lot: 1
Number of aborted breakups via email: 2
Number of giant teddy bears Steve has given me: 1
Steve’s thoughtful gestures went far beyond stuffed animals. A man with the soul of an artist, he’s also written me poetry and music -- and has, throughout the trajectory our relationship has taken, always been in my corner.
Whether it’s encouraging me in my literary aspirations or sending me a comforting email on the anniversary of my dad’s passing, Steve never fails to be there for me. We are that rare exception of former lovers who have become friends. And, really, that’s what love is all about.
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