Stuart and I met three years ago today. There was a lot of this going on that weekend, and there was a lot of this, too. It was magical and intoxicating and in many ways, was the best week of my life to date, and in the top ten since.
But possibly my favorite memory from that week wasn’t the first time we talked about books, or how Stuart met me outside my office building and threw his arms around me, or the Wednesday that I skived off work and we stayed in bed all day, or even him proposing out of the blue on Saturday afternoon. It’s not the walk through Central Park, or introducing him to Beth and having her smile like she got that I finally got It, or even calling my parents and telling them, you have to come to New York because this guy is the one.
All of those things are beautiful. They’re treasures. But my favorite memory was from Monday night. Shiv and Biscuit were coming over for chocolate fondue. We spent twenty minutes in Trade Fair talking and kissing and laughing, and as we stood in line with the chocolate bars and the milk or whatever, Stuart asked, “What are we going to dip into this chocolate?” and we realized that we’d managed to get two people from the register without any strawberries or pound cake or caramels.
It’s not the most romantic of moments, but it’s certainly the most telling. When you’ve found something that rare and beautiful, you don’t really bother making sure your feet are still on the ground and the right ingredients are in your shopping cart.
I still forget to get the right ingredients or sweep the dust bunnies or mail that form, because I’m too busy being in love, three years later. I’d apologize for it but it needs none. It’s perfect.
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february 18th, 2007 – photo taken by the stupendously talented jason, as usual.

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