Do Right Man

I met L at a bar. I was 22; he was 21. It was lust at first sight. The minute our eyes met, there was a thwang in my crotchal region. And yes, I did see him across a crowded room. Yes, it was even a smoky crowded room. He was standing with a guy I knew from... well, I'm not sure how I knew him, looking back. I suppose it was a friend of a friend of a friend thing. At the time, I was in college, going out every night, trying to be Ms. Barfly 1997. Anyway, I walked over to the friend and had him introduce me to L. The thwanging continued, followed by some zings and a few deep throbs. It's not that L is that gorgeous, in the grand scheme of hotness. He's not. But to me? He's just... right. It's the eyes. And the smile. And the ass. And, at the time, his incredible arms. He's short, only 5'7". He has a wrestler's build and curly, curly, curly, brown hair and slate blue eyes. I actually didn't take him home with me that first night. Surprising behavior for me at the time. But the next night? Oh yes. I can't drive by a particular fast food joint here in town without remembering what we did in the parking lot. From then on we were joined at the groin. I told myself it was just the sex. We had a rocky start, emotionally. He was on the rebound, and I was just not interested in a relationship. I was building walls around my heart and trying my best to be hard. We met in July, and by Thanksgiving it was love. It was almost an accident. At first it really wasn't the good kind of love. It was a bit too passionate, a little too desperate, backed by a little too much pain and immaturity. But, with time, that changed. The fun, strong love came out and stuck around. After almost 9 years, moving across the country together twice to cities we'd never been to where we knew no one, and a pseudo breakup lasting about 2 years, I'm more in love with him every day. He farts a lot, and sometimes he talks with his mouth full, and I really wish he'd cut down on the cursing and the smoking. He's the smartest man I know, and he doesn't have a college degree. He's talented and driven and kind and brash and confident and vulnerable and accepting and opinionated, and he's bound to say exactly the wrong thing and still get away with it because his smile could melt glaciers. He's a sucker for animals and hard cases, and he drives me crazy when he makes up stories about people in restaurants and insists he's right about them. He pretty much insists he's right about everything, and I just want to wring his neck, and then he ruins it all by secretly watching Seventh Heaven and Charmed. He is completely, utterly, captivatingly flawed, and I think I'll keep him.