Fire

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Fire. I know that word was in my Match profile back in July of 2021. Tired of being without a partner in life, I turned to the internet to satisfy one of the things I value most in life—companionship. “I value my independence and I will respect and value yours.” was one of the lines that I was so proud of writing in my bio. Bio, right? That’s what it’s called? I can’t remember. It seems so long ago that I started this miraculous adventure in dating. Dating. At 43. I never thought that would happen. But it did.

Fire. What was the line that had that word that caught his eye? I think it went something like this “I’m a mother of three kids ages 13, 10, and 8. I co-parent with their Dad. I’m not looking for someone to step into that role, I just want someone to sit by the firepit and drink a beer with me.” I think that might have clinched his interest but I know I swiped first. Left or right? I can’t remember. His profile pictures were cute and somewhat dorky, his kitchen impeccably clean in the background. Eyes? Blue. I could tell he was as uncomfortable putting himself out there as I was. “Before this gets too serious, you should know that I failed Spanish in high school and needed to go to summer school for it.” He had my attention. The message came in around 6 AM. I gave him my cell, he DMd me right away, slid right in.

Fire. Our first date was at Island Creek and all I wanted to do was sit by that giant cauldron of flames with him, it was love at first sight. “Steph?” he asked as he saw me cross the street to the entrance wearing a dress that was too tight, shoes that made me a little taller, a purse that didn’t match. “Thomas?” I responded. He opened his arms for a hug. I was done for. On fire. We discovered we were both the oops babies of our families, both our Dads had dementia, his had already passed. He told me he had never met anyone who shared that oops baby thing. I thought we hit it off spectacularly, he says that I kept giving him weird looks. What was the look I gave you? I tell him it’s because I’m hard of hearing and he’s so soft-spoken. The look was in place of a “hunh??”

Fire. We make fires just about every chance we get, he loves a good wood stove as do I. 850 days and a couple hours later, I finally farted somewhat willingly in front of him. I’ve had a tough week healthwise and my stomach is messed up. A round of Ciprofloxacin for a little kidney infection I picked up because I thought that OTC Uqora would cure what seemed to be a brewing UTI. Yes, that’s right, the very same one I wrote about last week. Yes, I know I should have gone to the doctor. No, I didn’t go right away. “Don’t should yourself.” Thomas tells me all the time. He knows all too well the torture of having grown up Irish and Catholic. Guilt, self-blame, guilt. Hey, at least we both know we’re honest to a fault. Trust, that’s another thing I value. In Thomas, I trust. I didn’t know that was such a big deal to me, it is to him too. Shared values; that’s the stuff that makes love not war. Love. I value love above all. I love you and you love me. As the kids all say, “that’s fire”.

Evergreen & Grey is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.