Hotel California

We met on hinge in the middle of December, 2019. We dated virtually, before that was the norm. We ran 10k together ignoring the WhatsApp signal disconnecting as the poor weather dripped on our faces. I in Bedfordshire, her in south London. We finally met on December 28th. Our first date lasted for 28 hours. We launched Chinese lanterns at the Shard. We drank hot cider at a cozy pub. We laughed. We shared. We fucked. We were really with each other the whole time.

We saw each other twice more in London before I went back to California. I promised I would return.

Before I could return, she bought a flight to California, and our shenanigans picked up again. We packed up white Toyota truck and traveled California. Yoga on top of a mountain, live animal farm, wine tasting, boating in Newport. She saw my friends... they loved her. And then it all had to end again a week later with her flight back to London.

I kept my promise and came back to London and we met at the Citizen M hotel. Two days later, we would be locked in our room and told we could only leave to pick up our bottles of Champagne. The world had changed. We had changed.

We were given a flat to use right on Hempstead Heath. We suddenly were buying groceries and meeting families on zoom and joking about the other one's poop smells. It felt we had skipped a few levels in the relationship.

We still struggle sometimes with her being Welsh, me being Californian. The outrageously difficult accents, the missed meanings of words, the unusual habits, the weird ways to show your love... but we do it. We do it with each other and it feels so right.

And next week we move into our south London flat, a 12 month lease. And as the world maybe opens up, we laugh, since we have been so open with each other this whole time. Our way to battle lockdown. Our way to win with each other.