Being the sentimental part of the #alyxkelly25 project

Posted on January 6, 2014 by

There’s a line early in The Winslow Boy: “Let’s take the sentimental part of the project for granted,” it goes. It’s a dad’s way of saying to a young man, “I get you’re in love with my daughter, but let’s not go talking about all these feels of yours, all right?”

To which I say Fuck That! If I’m gonna make a big public fuss over my anniversary, let’s lead with emotion.

I fell irrevocably in love with my wife Kelly when I saw her dancing at a bagpipe funk concert sponsored by the Lethbridge Folk Festival, back in the late Eighties. I remember the moment. The thunderbolt. We’d been friends awhile, had gone to the concert together, but boom. Everything changed. And that night she slept over at my place and…

… and nothing happened. No romance, no heartfelt confessions. I was dating someone else, see.

(Which was a situation that went on, messily, for rather an embarrassingly long while. It took time for me to get my head out of Denialsville, otherwise known as my ass, and the rest of me out of the prior relationship.)

This thing K and I have, it is the billion dollar lottery win. It is the One True Loveā„¢. It is hearts and flowers; the glass slipper. It has the feel of fate, and tastes of the marrow-deep conviction that there is no other. All those schmaltzy “two hearts beating as one” lyrics and greeting cards may as well have been written for us.

And though it doesn’t feel anything but right, it’s easy to see from a distance that it’s weird, because I’m a pragmatic, tough-minded and generally rational being, with little patience for magical thinking. My head doesn’t take seriously the proposal that in a world filled with billions, each of us has one other half whom they might never actually meet. I’ve watched Tim Minchin’s lengthy, slightly NSFW, “If I Didn’t Have You” a hundred times because I love it. (Thanks, Linda C, for that!)

And my brain buys in, utterly. Perhaps especially the part of love being made more powerful by the trauma of shared existence.

Logic aside, I live the happily ever after implied in every Austen novel and romantic comedy. The right person came along for me, the One. And that, my friends, is that. I love Kelly with a passion that borders on worship.

I am incredibly, unbelievably fortunate.

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