Piles of notes and all sorts of library books that I know I might not be reading them all stack the table and the space around my chair. I am sitting comfortably facing the lavishly green landscape a view from my bedroom window to the garden. It’s an early New Zealand summer day, the sun is bright and the wind is crisp. This is an ideal inspirational spot and yet instead of working on my thesis proposal and preparing for the mid-term exams, I am scanning the pages on my online dating website. Flicking from one picture to the next, I mentally tick mark each person, no, no, oh no, nah, ehm… maybe, no, no, wink or not wink, move on, no, no, no and on and on I flick one after the other.
Then, a mail arrived. Click on the inbox and start reading, Kiwistag01, ehm… what a confidence. He doesn’t sound bad, mentioning that he passed almost all 20 things that I listed in my profile and he would like to get to know me in person. Why not? Let’s reply, ask him to elaborate on each point, find out what he has got to say next.
“What are you doing?” After the period of exchanged emails, I am here to inform that Kiwistag01 and I have been exchanging instant messages on net and off net and phone calls.
“Studying, try to at least”
“It’s kind of late, working hard?”
“On and off, can’t seem to concentrate, been reading the same page over and over again.”
“You need a break, want me to come over and bring you coffee?”
“Now? It’s late, and what happen to our we’ll-meet-next-week plan? You promised me tea in a thermos, remember?”
“LOL, I know, but I want to meet you, I’m in the area. So, can I come?”
That coffee delivery bought from the nearby petrol station turns out to be a labour-weekend-stay-over. Lead to me meeting his dog, office friends, the whole family, close friends, and me moving in and sharing his living space and daily life. In that span of close to 18 months time, I become we. He becomes we. But, love, is still yet factor in.
“Babe” I can hear his voice calling over the running water.
“In the shower,” I yell back, no need actually, as his head pops between the ajaring sliding door.
“I know.” Grinning sheepishly he closed back the door.
“Cheeky!” I yell again, continuing what I’m doing and wait, listen, a few minutes passes by, and there it is the familiar sound of that online computer game that I learn to hate.
Fresh from the shower, I walk over to his throne; give him a hug and a kiss.
Holding me close, “The raid will start soon,” says he.
“I know,” cupping my hands on his receding potato head, “hungry?”
“Yesss,” his smile broad flashing from underneath all those beard a set of crow feet framing his beaming eyes, and I forget that a few minute ago I want to smack him hard on the head.
“Dinner in 5,” peeling myself away from his embrace.
“No hurry, babe.”
Two plates, I am making dinner for two, he doesn’t like his vegetables, so I puree the carrots and finely blend in every veggie-like substances into the tomato sauce of this bolognaise. Three, I also have my own personal 4-legged dinner companion, PeeJay. She follows me around, sharing my dinner, facing the same direction that I am facing, the TV screen. While her master, my potato, facing the opposite direction of us, the computer screen.
It’s late; I am getting ready for bed after my last cig outside in the cold night air. Snugly tucked under the duvet, reading my book, potato comes and claims his side of the bed from PeeJay. Closing my book, wrestling with PeeJay to put my arms around potato, I whisper, “Tired?” Hugging me tight, he sighs,” Knackered.” I reach over to his side of the bed, find the light switch. Darkness falls upon us, silence, you can hear 3 hearts beat in its individual pace, then sleep comes and linger the whole night. It’s a normal happy day, of we, us, me, him and PeeJay.