If you’re not interested in matters of the heart, and hate sentimental corny posts, do skip this one. Because today, I will tell you about my love.
You might have picked up on this in my previous post. I am in a long distance relationship. How did I end up in one? Well, let me tell you our story.
This time last year, I arrived in Alice Springs, Northern Territory, Australia. I had travelled and worked in Western Australia for five months, and just finished a one month roadtrip from Sydney to Melbourne and Adelaide, visiting the Snowy Mountains, Wilson’s Promontory, Wilpena Pound, the Great Ocean Road, and many more spectacular places, 4WD’ed straight through the red centre on the Oodnadatta track past lake Eyre to Uluru and finally to Alice Springs. What a crazy half year it had been. And in Alice Springs, I was back to the start: I had to come up with a new plan, again. Had to find a job, again. Had to make new friends, again. I bet you all agree, after a while, it gets tiring. But not for long. Because I had only been in Alice Springs for one day when I met the most amazing person. I had no idea at the time, but it became clear to me pretty soon.
You see, I was 23 years old, and I had never been in love. No no, let’s be honest. I had never even been in a relationship. I wasn’t looking for love. I didn’t know what it looked like. I was perfectly happy exploring on my own. Except for the tiring part. The part where you have to make new friends: where are you from how long have you been on the road for where have you been so far oooh that’s so cool yeah me too awesome. Same conversation. Every day. With everyone you meet. But with this fella, it was different.
We met in the hostel, just started talking, as you do. I noticed him before making calls applying for jobs. Ah, I thought, a likeminded traveller (and a rather handsome one, at that!) He was sitting next to the tap. As I went over to get some water, he asked me, not much to do here in Alice Springs, is there? And that’s it. That’s how we met. Not immediately the start of the greatest hollywood love story, I hear you think. I agree. Our story is so much better.
So we started hanging out 24/7, saw all there is to see in Alice Springs (not much, believe you me, but we kept finding fun stuff such as cycling through the desert to the telegraph station we never found, visiting the completely barren botanic gardens, going up Anzac Hill (which we keep calling Aznac Hill) for a pretty neat but scorching hot view of the city, enjoying the absolutely mental desert town party night life, and I can keep going). And we didn’t just have the usual conversations. We talked hours and hours, got each other laughing from the second we met, made wonderful friends together. Me and him, we were a “we” almost instantly. A package deal. And what a package it is.
It all went really fast. And so insanely easy. Nothing has ever been so easy in my life! None of the drama the hollywood movies and love songs had taught me! No “defining the relationship”. No playing games or being too scared to be honest about our feelings. No trying to make each other jealous. No hopelessly trying to impress each other. Seriously, who came up with that stuff?! Why did no one tell me movies are so unrealistic?
If there is one thing I have learned (and here comes the corny bit), it’s that loving each other is the easiest thing on earth. If it’s not easy, it’s not love. And to be fair, our situation isn’t easy. We’re not from the same countries. When our visas expired and the money ran out, we each had to go home. I was starting a job here, he was getting back into his old job there. And that’s where we still are now. But even though our lives have changed so drastically since we met, nothing has changed in the way I feel about him. Loving him is still as easy as pie. And I love him more every day. I have never been so happy in my life. Everything I do is so much better when he is around. I love talking to him, I love laughing with him, I love the stories he tells me and the jokes he makes, and the smile he smiles when he notices I’m not getting the joke, or not getting it’s a joke (I need some sort of a Bazinga alert, really). He has a thousand single smiles, and I know every single one of them. Corny again: his smiles makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Yup. Fuzzy.
Happy anniversary my sweet sweet baby!