katernater (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
katernater) wrote2008-07-20 05:56 pm
katernater) wrote2008-07-20 05:56 pm
Entry tags:
Warning: Here be fluff.
Todd is pretty fantastic.
Even now, a year and four months down the line, he's still capable of surprising me. Last night, for instance, after we had spent most of the day shopping (I'm a little squeamish about all of my purchases today, especially about what it'll do to my checking account tomorrow), we went out for drinks at this little dive bar and, for about an hour, the conversation centered around 1) the logistics of panfandom roleplaying, and 2) how Michael Crawford will always be THE Phantom in Phantom of the Opera, no matter what Andrew Lloyd Webber says, does, or writes into a ham-handed sequel. The man let me talk about this kind of stuff and, what's more, he remained interested.
Even when I was on my second beer and I started to drop my consonants under the table and, for lack of a better option, resorted to using hand gestures to describe the end of the first act of The Phantom of the Opera because he's never seen it ("So, all of a sudden, the chandelier is like --" [pantomimes choking something with hands] "-- and everybody in the audience is like --" [panic face] "-- and the Phantom is like --") I could tell that he was still listening, still interested, and that's something about Todd that completely amazes me.
A lot of what goes on inside of my head ends up staying there, if only because you can't find many "normal" people around who're willing to listen to me talk, ad nauseum, about House, or roleplaying, or how my heart literally slaps against my ribcage when I hear the string section of an orchestra slide into a crescendo on a minor chord (like it does at about 5:14 during this song, thus giving us an audible emotional insight into the hero's conflicted heart.) See what I mean? Most people don't want to hear that kind of stuff. You're skimming right now, aren't you?
Todd is the first person, maybe in forever, that I've trusted enough to be able to share some of these things with. I mean, really talk about them, not just say something like, "Oh, yeah, I roleplay" and then immediately make amends for it with, "I know it's dorky, right? Order me another drink with one of those grown-up paper umbrellas in it."
I can be myself with Todd. Maybe the most real version of myself that I've been in years. To have that kind of freedom -- to be able to share ideas, thoughts, and passions with somebody else, and to not be afraid that you're going to looked down on for them -- has been one of the greatest experiences of my life. And, in less than seventy-two hours, Todd and I are going to embark on the biggest adventure of our lives to date. I can't imagine sharing that with anybody but him. I can't imagine doing a lot of things without him.
Aaaand if we can make it two weeks together sharing the same cramped cabin and not want to kill each other (at least most of the time), I think we'll be okay. I mean, we'll always have Paris, right?
Even now, a year and four months down the line, he's still capable of surprising me. Last night, for instance, after we had spent most of the day shopping (I'm a little squeamish about all of my purchases today, especially about what it'll do to my checking account tomorrow), we went out for drinks at this little dive bar and, for about an hour, the conversation centered around 1) the logistics of panfandom roleplaying, and 2) how Michael Crawford will always be THE Phantom in Phantom of the Opera, no matter what Andrew Lloyd Webber says, does, or writes into a ham-handed sequel. The man let me talk about this kind of stuff and, what's more, he remained interested.
Even when I was on my second beer and I started to drop my consonants under the table and, for lack of a better option, resorted to using hand gestures to describe the end of the first act of The Phantom of the Opera because he's never seen it ("So, all of a sudden, the chandelier is like --" [pantomimes choking something with hands] "-- and everybody in the audience is like --" [panic face] "-- and the Phantom is like --") I could tell that he was still listening, still interested, and that's something about Todd that completely amazes me.
A lot of what goes on inside of my head ends up staying there, if only because you can't find many "normal" people around who're willing to listen to me talk, ad nauseum, about House, or roleplaying, or how my heart literally slaps against my ribcage when I hear the string section of an orchestra slide into a crescendo on a minor chord (like it does at about 5:14 during this song, thus giving us an audible emotional insight into the hero's conflicted heart.) See what I mean? Most people don't want to hear that kind of stuff. You're skimming right now, aren't you?
Todd is the first person, maybe in forever, that I've trusted enough to be able to share some of these things with. I mean, really talk about them, not just say something like, "Oh, yeah, I roleplay" and then immediately make amends for it with, "I know it's dorky, right? Order me another drink with one of those grown-up paper umbrellas in it."
I can be myself with Todd. Maybe the most real version of myself that I've been in years. To have that kind of freedom -- to be able to share ideas, thoughts, and passions with somebody else, and to not be afraid that you're going to looked down on for them -- has been one of the greatest experiences of my life. And, in less than seventy-two hours, Todd and I are going to embark on the biggest adventure of our lives to date. I can't imagine sharing that with anybody but him. I can't imagine doing a lot of things without him.
Aaaand if we can make it two weeks together sharing the same cramped cabin and not want to kill each other (at least most of the time), I think we'll be okay. I mean, we'll always have Paris, right?