Goddess, I Am.

And so dewy Iris flew down from the sky on saffron-colored wings, trailing a thousand different colors across the sun… - From Virgil’s Aeneid

I’ve never been particularly good at relationships. I like to think of myself as relationship-challenged, though really, I’m just dysfunctional.

The longest relationship I’ve ever been in was with my college boyfriend, a guy who I’ve known my entire life. It went on for exactly 2 years to the day, during the course of which I lost my virginity in rather disappointing circumstances. We broke up at least twice a month on average, and both had affairs on the side. I eventually ended it because I basically outgrew him. He is now married to one of my mum’s distant cousins, no kidding.

The second longest relationship I’ve had was with a guy who, to this day, insists that what we had wasn’t a relationship, even if it did last for almost 2 years. He’s right, though. We never did go exclusive because he was, in his words, ‘too selfish’ to have a girlfriend. He did tell me he loved me at some point, and there was never any question that I was crazy about him; hence, probably why it lasted that long, albeit on and off.

Other boyfriends and kind-of boyfriends included a junkie who stole my computer and my money, an American who I was very briefly engaged to, and another who labeled me his ‘conquest (to use a slightly less callous word) 800-something-or-other’, to name a few. Indeed, not only was I dysfunctional, I seemed to attract men who were just as bad, if not worse.

Until now. A year ago today, I started dating a man who ended my life as I knew it, and made it as it is now. We’re neither perfect, nor ideal. Sometimes he does my head in, but I know I do too, probably more. It hasn’t been an easy ride, yes, but it hasn’t been difficult either. Indeed, as far as relationships (for me, or anyone else’s) go, we’re nothing short of idyllic.

My past has had more than its fair share of heartbreaks, but maybe it’s true that everything does happen for a reason. Maybe forcing me to go through all those failed relationships was nature’s way of making sure that I learned from my mistakes. Maybe I was meant to suffer before I got him as a reward. Maybe I had to endure the worst to appreciate the best when it does come. Whatever the reason, it’s irrelevant now. He loves me and I love him, and the life we’re building together is all that matters now. Everything else is water under the bridge. I’ve found my Mr. Darcy and my Mr. Big, that same man that every girl wants - not quite perfect, but close enough. And yes, there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that I’ll be keeping him for a long, long time.

Happy anniversary, my love. You make me so insanely, ridiculously, and deliriously happy on a regular basis. Do stay. Do stay for good.