We met in Virginia during my first year of college. Like many of the men that I have dated, I asked him out. I had some liquid courage, that came in the form of an entire bottle of Southern Comfort. The night ended up at Waffle House. Every college town should have a Waffle House. Actually, every town should have a Waffle House.
That night was really just initial flirtations, I am not sure if I was even coherent, but I guess I was appealing enough to ask out on a real date. We clicked in some way; he was older, almost 8 years older and living near campus, working on his art. He was an Art major, and to tell the truth I have no idea what he did for money while I was dating him in Virginia.
There are a ton of stories that go along with the time he and I dated in Virginia, naked frisbee, aliens up at the West Virginia cabin, floating down the river–each is its own wonderful memory. Then I moved to Santa Fe, and he did too.
We were so young, and everything was an adventure. So many of my good memories from that time are tied to him, camping with bears and flooding, easter in Diablo Canyon, my first forays into cooking. There are also many sad ones.
When we lived in Santa Fe his mother died and my father died. We broke up and got back together, broke up and got back together. Sometimes I think that he is the only man I have ever dated who’s passions were equal to mine, only the passions were different, and they never really aligned.
He is and was a kind man, and after my father died I was a mess. I hurt him when I ended it, hurt him again when I ended it again, and hurt him again when I ended it the last time. There were times much later, when I was in a horrible relationship, that I thought it was my punishment for what I did to him.
I should speak to the character of the man. He is the epitome of an Aries–fiery, passionate, creative, fearless, stubborn, selfish, and selfless. Oh and let us not forget just a little bit vain, he spent more time on his hair than any man I have ever known, but to be fair he is an incredibly handsome man. He was never afraid to buck tradition and at the same time embraces his heritage.
He lives now with his wife, and one of the cutest little kiddos around. His wife is a beautiful, wild, amazing spirit in the body of a woman who is perfect for him, and I cannot imagine anyone else with him. He lives in the town he grew up in a small hamlet in central Virginia, and every time I talk to him his drawl gets thicker. He owns a haunted house. His art background is finally getting used to created monsters, creatures, and all those horrors in our nightmares.
He has put up with me for the last 28 years. He has fielded my calls after my relationships ended and listened to me weep, offered advice, kindness, and friendship. He is one of my best friends. He gets that I love campy b-movies and Derrida. I can also argue about the truly nerdy stuff with him. Like what level engineering is really on in the Enterprise.
I have never regretted Louis and I not being together, even on the days when I missed him terribly. He is a good man, and he has a good life, one far better than he would have had with me, it took me a while to grow up. The day that he told me about Wendy, his wife, a huge weight lifted off of my heart, for there is no one I know who does not deserve to be loved for who he is more than Louis.
He is the one of the few people who I believe truly know me, and who I trust to give me honest feedback on whether I am being stupid or a bitch. He also has met my family and knows all of their issues. He also is the only partner that ever met my father, and that alone makes him precious to me.
About ten years ago I asked him what type of man I should be with, there was no hesitation in his answer.
“I just always imagined that you needed to be with someone more like your dad. Someone intelligent and well rounded. Someone that new how to be gregarious when the situation called for it, and also values solitude. Someone mature, but able to be silly. I would tell him you are wonderful apart from a few human flaws, but no one is perfect. I’d tell him to hold tight, and if he was going to love you then do it completely.”
Snapshots of Them 
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