According to Tim Burton, stories have a beginning, a middle, and an end - but not specifically in that order. And to me, that’s a pretty accurate sum up of the past 2 years.
We managed to take the biggest steps, at the weirdest of times. We sprinted into the serious without a second thought - yet looked too deeply into the beginning. To the point where there almost wasn’t an official starting point.
Remember October 1st? I guess that’s the where our story really starts. You spun me so much I lost all my bearings, and forgot all my rules. We began on 3rd date territory - and yet that never even happened until the end of the second month, the following year.
It took us reaching an end, to find our true beginning. Pride and anxiety almost screwed us over, but when there’s a will, there’s a way. Or, more realistically, when there’s a shit tonne of alcohol at a house party, there’s a high chance you’re gunna spill your feelings like the hula hoops that coated the floor. I’m glad we did. It may have gone against every single one of my instincts, but I s’pose if you don’t push yourself, you miss out on all the good stories.
Our middle has been a wild ride - or maybe we’re still in the beginning section? Most people save the serious stuff for further down the line, but, as you know, we ain’t like most people. It took a month for you to drunkenly tell me you loved me, on those slippery dive-bar steps. I wish I could have plucked up the nerve to say it back, but I’m sure you knew I wanted to. You have a knack for that. Instead we drank, and drank, and drank. Once again, I was supposed to go home, but ended up waking up to the black & white wallpaper I was growing to know so well. Another month on, you were living in my house. Although a move for practicality, it was still one of the best decisions we ever made - the weird thing? It didn’t freak me out at all. Now that’s madness.
Fast forward, through more adventures than you can count on twelve people’s hands, and we’re back in the house with the black & white wallpaper - but now, it’s ours. We’re back at a beginning. However, now it’s a new beginning of the next chapter. Who knew our story would ramble on for so many pages? Well, me. I guess I did. It’s terrifyingly thrilling.
I like to think we have our own little fairytale, and not just that - we have a fairytale that’s managed to upstage all the others. I mean, they tend to only last 3 pages in total - and although you rescued me from the evil witch that was my mind, you didn’t need to loose your sight to thorns in order to do so.
Our story is certainly one to be written about. From being yelled at by prostitutes, to sitting under the stars, on the road we’ve stumbled along many a time. John Green would love those moments. I like to think about how he’d write us. He’d go for paragraphs over the evenings where I’d lay, with my head just below your shoulder, looking up to see the TV’s reflection in your eyes, making them sparkle. It’s the most colour you ever get to see in them at once. I know you think it’s weird that I stare, but I’m just waiting for you to kiss me.
Yep, we really would make the most badass of novels, but I s’pose the real thrill of our stories, is that they’re mostly kept between us. Like the secrets you keep in primary school - you get all excited and giddy because you’re the only one special enough to be trusted to keep them. I like that. We can whisper about when we were in Prague and everyone insisted on taking our photo at the most uncomfortable of times, or the time I got sassy with the town pastors on Halloween - and no one will ever find it as funny as we do, because those moments are ours. They’re our memories. Our secrets. Our experiences. And there’s no one I’d want to share them with, other than you.
It’s mad to think that we’re now creeping into year 2 as a team. It’s come around insanely quickly, but also feels like we’ve been at this forever. To me, that’s the best feeling in the world. That, and knowing that we’ve already reached the end, before the beginning - which means we have a shitload of time to experience, appreciate, and eternalise our middle.
