Thursday, 17 February 2011

9 years

It was our 9th anniversary this month. 9 years since Husband and I met in a nightclub in our old university town. 9 years since our first date. We celebrated with fish and chips and a bottle of champagne. The same meal we ate when we got engaged. Same champagne producer. Same champagne that we had at our wedding.

Valentines Day, well, that was our 8th Valentines Day. The first time around, we'd only known each other a week. Which was *way* to early to be doing things like celebrating V-day. We met on a Thursday (identifiable only because we know what nightclub we met on therefore we knew what day of the week it was and each club had a different student night) during an evening which I can only remember in snap shots. We met over a cigarette. Romantic. (I wanted one, asked a friend for one I spotted on the dance floor, Husband offered me one of his). Those were the days when you could and did smoke in clubs and thinking about it now, it just seems so disgusting that I though nothing of dropping the butt on the floor. We danced. Kissed. Outside afterwards he offered me his jumper. It was grey. Fuzzy. He was wearing a white shirt. I was wearing a black lace top with jeans that didn't fit and wedge heeled sandals. I didn't want the night to end, so we went back to mine. Talked. Slept. The next morning. [Ok, afternoon, who am I kidding] we sat on my stairs as he rolled a cigarette and put his number into my phone. A pink sparkly nokia to match my Rancid band hoody.  . Oh yes, and the eye liner. Those were the days. His jeans had the inside seams cut, he was wearing brown boat shoes. I hated his name. But not him. A few days later, he texted. Can it really have been a few days, I can't imagine how I didn't call him. I remember the text. He called me honey. I danced around my room. He invited me to his for supper.

Which, working out the days, must have been 9 years this Tuesday or Wednesday. History doesn't relate if it was the Friday or the Saturday. But I remember the meal. Chicken stir fry, with wine and proper coffee afterwards. I'm not sure what impressed me the most - the fact he could cook or the fact he made proper coffee. I was so nervous I found it hard to eat. But we started talking and we haven't stopped since. It was perfect. I can't believe that was 9 years ago.

This year I ate alone on Valentine's Day. Our first though, he asked our friends that he lived with to go out. We'd been together a year, just celebrated my 21st birthday. I wore 'nice' underwear and boots. Made a real effort (looking back I can't believe what I was thinking - but all shoes in the early 2000s were hideous. Not just mine). I got a taxi. He cooked me supper - I can't remember what. I gave him a card. He didn't. Much like this year. A few weeks later we went to Paris. Drank red wine in cheap restaurants and ate steak and sat for 4 hours, confusing the waiter by ordering tea between courses. Smoked cigarettes and drank coffee in cafes. Drank cocktails full of sparklers.Went to galleries. Walked and talked. We're going back to Paris in April. Where we will take up smoking again, and sit for hours in cafes, talking and walking. We'll be together for almost 2 weeks and I can. not. wait.

13 comments:

Kirsty said...

Oh, the early 2000s. It was a very dark time for shoes. And hair. And also, in my case, weird see-through gypsy tops and knee-high boots made of highly flammable faux-leather. Happy days.

Hope you have a wonderful time in Paris - sounds perfect.

Peacock Feathers and Diamond Rings said...

:) those were my boots!

Kristy said...

:) I hope you have a wonderful time in Paris!

(Oh my gosh, shoes in the early '00s were bad. Good for a laugh now, though, eh?)

wifeinthecity.com said...

2 weeks in Paris! Wow, wishing already that you have a wonderful wonderful time. This post was great, very evocative, how I remember when you could smoke in clubs, it's so nice hearing about the early days, the heady days. And yes shoes have improved hugely, although what do you think we'll be saying in 10 years time?

Peacock Feathers and Diamond Rings said...

(we will be together for 2 weeks, but not in France for 2 weeks. There's a royal wedding to come home and watch!)

I can't imagine in 10 years we'll think our shoes today are more hideous than the shoes of the early 2000s. Funny thing is, if I look at the shoes I think 90s. Yet those hideous boots were definitely in existence in 2002. I think I then moved onto Reef flipflops for the duration of university. Flipflops and trainers and boat shoes (which will tell you where I went to university!)

anna and the ring said...

Here's to love and Paris. (And dubious taste - oh the memories!)

Spare Thoughts said...

Happy anniversary. Have a wonderful time in Paris.

KLS said...

Lovely story.
Enjoy your trip.

agirl said...

Beautiful. I love hearing about the beginnings of love. It never fails to move me.

SO incredibly jealous of your two weeks together. Bliss.

Cate Subrosa said...

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Cannot tell you how much I loved this post. So love how you wrote it. x

Marie-Ève said...

What a lovely post. Oh yes, the shoes. Although I was living in Europe then, and liked to think that consequently what I wore was better than what I could have bought back home. :-)

Happy anniversary!

Eric said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Helen said...

What a lovely post - it's always great to hear how people met.

Oh yes, the shoes in the early noughties. I had a pair of wedge black mules that [hangs head shamefully] I've only just got rid of. My husband thought they were hideous but I recall them being bang on trend at the time. I also remember gypsy tops, midriff bearing tops and weird combat style trousers with strips hanging off them - although I did draw the line at wearing those.

Have fun in Paris - I just came back from there and also spent a lot of time walking, talking and drinking coffee in cafes!