During the past few months I’ve written about a lot of things, but perhaps failed to ever write anything about my long term partner.
We met almost sixteen years ago in a pub up in Whitby called the Elsinore. I still remember that day as if it was yesterday. I’d just driven up from Birmingham after work and deposited my bags at the house I was staying in for the duration of the Whitby Goth in Weekend.
As normally my first port of call was the pub, to see who’d arrived for the event. The place was busy and buzzing with anticipation for the weekend, old friends meeting up to chat and new friendships being started over a pint.
I spotted a couple of familiar faces and wandered over to say hi. We chatted briefly and they started to introduce a person they’d brought with them who was sitting on a bar still, staring into a freshly poured pint of snake bite and black.
I tried to open conversation and catch there attention in my usual humorous way, with the following words
“Smile, it might not happen.”
I was great by a short and concise response.
“Fuck off, it already has.”
This to me was a sign that I might have hit a nerve with my failed attempt to break the ice. So I decided that discretion was probably the better part of valour in this situation and beat a hasty retreat.
We met again later that weekend under slightly better circumstances and she apoligied. We talked endlessly all through the night and became pretty much inseparable for the following few days.
Four years later we married, she is mother to my children, home maker, best friend and partner in crime for everything.
At the time of meeting I was not truly aware that I was poly or that she was pan/bisexual. These are things we’ve discovered and investigated together.
All I know, is that she is my rock and I love her.