Thirteen Years

I convinced Nicolas to go into a photo booth with me last night at our local movie theater. He probably thought I had something really fun in mind. No, I just wanted shots of us on our thirteenth anniversary. That's crazy, out of the norm behavior enough for me!

We're looking ok for having just ingested bar food, coca-cola, popcorn, snowcaps and gummie bears (it was our anniversary - we went all out. Ohdear, my naturopath MIL is reading this...) Plus, we had just seen yet another very stressful thriller about the CIA and the war - "Body of Lies", which had me squinting so hard in distress that I am surprised I could then stretch my face back out into a smile so quickly.

It's been fifteen years since we met, waiting tables at a vegetarian restaurant in Little Five Points in Atlanta. I was directing at my brother's theater and Nicolas was just starting his farm. I was planning a move to Seattle, to go to grad. school for theater and hopefully reunite with my ex-boyfriend.

Thankfully, fate intervened. He brought me on my first camping trip, ever! His mother healed my chronic fatigue. He was the most authentic, down to earth guy I'd ever met (I'd only ever dated actors or musicians). He said "funerable" rather than "vulnerable" - this really got me. He spoke French. He had lost most of his hair when he was eighteen. He has beautiful blue eyes and the best smile, ever.

I remember the moment when I made the decision to think about us as more than just friends who go out for a beer after every Wed. night shift. It was a Thursday. Nicolas was working. I was not. I lived in Little 5 Points and was on my way to get myself dinner. I stood at a cross-roads. If I walked to the right, I would be going to the health food store, Sevenanda, to get myself a hummus sandwich. If I walked straight forward, I would be going to Eat Your Vegetables, our restaurant, to order an EYV salad and then hang around with the serious European waiter while it was being put together. I knew that he would know that I had chosen to go there to see him. This was a big move. It was easily made.

The profoundness of my having shown up may have been - ok, was absolutely - lost on Nicolas, the Belgian. He is straightforward and, after all, he is male. But that was the moment I think about every year at this time and I feel so grateful that I chose the salad.