Giving/Receiving

For a long time, maybe the past year, maybe longer, I had been pretty anti relationship. I wrote about it here, and then retracted my statement in the following post. The thing that nudged me back into the land of the loving (har har) was a fateful Sunday afternoon when I donated blood, and the subsequent loneliness I felt afterwards as I recovered alone from the nausea that followed my bloodletting.

Alone in an unfamiliar room, a gentle breeze wafting through an open window, and the emptiness in my heart when I realized that all I wanted at that moment -- or for the rest of my life, really -- was to have a neck to nuzzle into when things got tough, and a strong arm wrapped around me, reassuring me that someone had my back when the tough got going.

I haven't written many details about the new man in my life. I met him at both of our favorite bar on Valentine's Day - that you know. I approached him because I thought he was handsome and we talked for a bit, laughing at inappropriate jokes and smiling shyly at each other. I awkwardly gave him my number as I left the bar. The next night we had our first date, and it's been pretty much bliss ever since.

An email from a concerned reader last week tipped me off as to the fact that I wasn't doing such a great job portraying this relationship as the life changing one that it is. Although I'm quite candid and try to portray myself as true-to-life as possible here, he is still finding his voice on his blog, and that voice is somewhat snarky. I love the snarky, embittered side of him, but that is just one aspect of him. The truth is, I have never in my entire life been treated as well as he treats me. I'm blown away on a day to day basis.

I mean that sincerely, my mind is blown and I .get it. now. I get why couples steal a kiss in public, I get why people get married, I get the romantic sentiments I used to find endlessly annoying and trite. I used to act the part I think, on some level. This is what a girlfriend does, this is what someone in love acts and feels like. Maybe it's just that I'm bad at remembering the emotions I felt in past relationships, but I don't remember it ever making this much sense.

On Saturday we went to the Elysian Park Police Department to donate blood at a Red Cross event. It was his first time, my third if you count my first failed attempt. He held my hand as they prepped me, making sure I was comfortable and obliging my request for a couple photos to be snapped. I watched across the room from my gurney as he raced to get his over with so that he could take care of me, knowing that I tend to get faint after such an event. He clenched his fist so that his blood would flow quicker, then jumped off his gurney and hurried to my side, quickly realizing that standing up so fast was a bad idea.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, napping under the whir of his ceiling fan and nuzzled by his sweet Corgi, Mona.

Making me laugh while I have a giant needle in my arm? That's fucking dedication.

All of you who commented on my nay-saying post that it would happen when I least expected it? You were so right. And it's better than I could have ever imagined.

Have you ever given blood? I highly recommend it, and I do it as much as allowed. Find a Red Cross blood donation drive here.