I kissed a boy (and I liked it)

November 17, 2013 in General

Loud music pounded my ears as I wriggled my way through the throngs on the dance floor, and the heaving mass pressed ever tighter as I carved myself a spot in the crowd.

Personal boundaries don’t matter at Family Bar on Karangahape Road. Stay home if you’re claustrophobic. Unintended physical contact with strangers is a given, and you can expect to rub shoulders – and everything else – with those around you.

It’s a great way to meet people; probably not the ideal way to start a relationship. Both were far from my mind that night. I was tired, had work the next morning, and was only in town because I was partying with a friend who was visiting from the South Island.

But fate intervened.

We still disagree on how it started. My hazy memories are of a really cute guy who began to dance a little closer than expected (if that was even possible). He insists I made the first move. Whatever.

When I woke up the next morning, I realised I didn’t know his name. Which was awkward, because he knew mine.

I got round it by asking for his number, then asking for the spelling of his name when I put it into my phone. Sneaky.

We’ve been together ever since.

It’s one year today since that auspicious meeting, and it’s been one of the happiest years of my life.

The guy I met that night has become my rock, my best friend, and the person I know I can turn to at the end of the day with what’s on my mind. He’s got a quirky sense of humour, and I laugh when I see his eyebrows drawn in concentration as he tries to understand Kiwi colloquialisms.

That’s not to say we don’t have our disagreements. I’m a morning person; he’s a night owl. We fold the laundry differently, put food in different places in the fridge, and argue over which movies to watch. Couple stuff.

But there’s always a compromise. I put on my eye mask when he stays up late at night; he puts his on when I throw the curtains open at 7am. Trivial disagreements seem unimportant in the context of a relationship. You figure out your differences, negotiate, and move on.

There’s something special about having a partner. It’s the partial merging together of two unique individuals to create a new, strengthened perspective, and that to me seems remarkable.

More than anything, I’m thankful that I live in a country where it’s possible for same-sex couples to enjoy the same rights and privileges as everyone else.

Kia kaha Aotearoa, kia kaha takataapui.