So, I have come to the point where I can’t tell any more stories without introducing you, Good People of the Internet, to someone new.
To be fair, he’s not so new to me (though he makes every day feel new, which is, perhaps, better than his actually being new). But until now (admittedly because I haven’t been blogging much…), I’ve managed to keep him under wraps.
Now, however, I’m getting to the part where he’s going to come up in conversation.
He and I talked about this, the issue of how he might appear on the blog, back in April. “At some point, I’m going to have to write about you,” I said. “There’s no way you can’t be part of the story.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “Just don’t use my real name.”
(“He’s a smart man,” said my father, when I told him about this exchange.)
“What do you want to be called?” I asked. “You don’t have to answer right away.”
“You can call me whatever you want,” he said.
So I thought about it, and I thought about a conversation I’d had with a friend shortly after he and I decided to call what we had together something more, well, perennial.
She and I were headed into the city to meet him and some other friends for karaoke. While we rode BART, I told her how I’d never dated anyone who matched me so well, who shared so many of my interests, who challenged me so thoroughly, and who could not only keep up with me, but might very well be able to outpace me, if given a chance.
“It’s a miracle,” she said. “You’ve found a unicorn!”
“Yes,” I said. “I have found a unicorn.”
And then, about an hour later, when he got up and started singing karaoke and revealed his amazing voice, she turned to me, wide-eyed and said, “MOTORCYCLE-RIDING UNICORN.”
So, readers of mine, consider yourself introduced to the newest character in this tale of food and things that grow from the dirt, this man who has utterly stolen my heart, and who will show up in the very next story I tell: The Unicorn.