Our Little Story

Love stories - yucky. I never had the patience for them. As fairy tale obsessed as I was as a kid, I was fascinated by adventures of pirates on far off islands, people who could fly or tame dragons and strange worlds beyond the Deep-woods. I always thought that Princes were foolish, they got in a way of adventure and made your head all silly. They'd make you stay at home and cook dinner or something along those lines. My favourite fairytales were the kind where when love was present, it was a more complex weather, less obvious, less romantic and something deeper, darker, stormier, unchartered- Like the love between Peter and Wendy, Twig and Maugin or North and Callanish.
I've never been a romantic person in my entire life - not in the relationship sense anyway. I'm all for the literary/art movement kind of Romanticism! I'm far too giggly and playful and just can't take myself seriously enough to stomach any kind of Romantic gesture. If someone put rose petals in my bath, I'd probably react really awkwardly like a five year old. I am a terrible girlfriend. But then George wanted to take photo's of ourselves together since we don't have many, to mark almost four years together and practice using our shiny new tripod - it took all of my self control to remain mature, serious and adult like.

George is my best friend - He's not just my partner in love, but in most things. Originally folk dancing. Most of our adventures we share together, and our relationship is built on not just a mutual love of each others goofy smiles and silly impressions of things - but shared community, given strengths where the other has weaknesses, being each other's stability and personal cheerleader and rather a large helping of mutual studio Ghibli love and the Digimon movie.
I thought it high time I shared the curious little story of how George and I met, since it has been rather a long time now and we often get asked the question 'So how did you guys meet?'. 'Well...' we begin, 'it's rather a long story' (one which definitely requires some tea and tiny sandwhiches!) :D

I was in college one winter day, skipping class with a friend. Some sort of silly college drama was happening and the days events for whatever reason had deemed attendance to class all too much and therefore relaxing in Kenwyn corridor with friends eating sweets had become by far the most preferable option.
Chatting away with a group of newly acquired friends, we became slightly distracted by the appearance of three boys bouncing down the corridor - none of whom I had ever met before.
Turns out, they were seeking one of their lost comrades - a chap named Will - who they found had been absorbed by our skivers club and attempted to rescue him. The chap named Will was reluctant to be rescued so they stayed and joined us instead. One of the the three had the most peculiar vampire like teeth I ever did see, and I made it my business to tell him so.
Talk about strange, I had never met this sharp-toothed boy in my life but there was something pretty odd about him that made me feel as if we had been best friends in another life. We were so mutually excited to meet each other, that within five minutes we were jumping up and down shouting at each other about I can't even remember what.
Eventually, they had to go. I waved goodbye to my new friend, unsure of what his name was, who he was or  when we'd bump into each other again. My friend who knew him quite well, nudged me in the ribs and I distinctly remember her saying: "Don't bother there, his girlfriend will kill you with fire". I laughed - dating certainly wasn't on my mind! but I did know right then, that he was the coolest person I had ever met.

Over the next year at college, we did bump into each other often and even spent a few lunches together with our  friends where he sent me flying down a hill and into a dustbin on his skateboard. Every time - despite not really knowing a lot about each other, it was like we were the oldest of friends but both of us had significant others and so every time, at the end, we'd part ways with a smile wondering when we'd next cross paths.
Did I have a secret crush on him? Of course I blooming well did. But I wasn't about to tell anyone. After all, it was never going to happen. It was impossible. And we had perfectly wonderful people already.

After college had ended, and my best friends and I had graduated we had one of the most glorious summers of my memory. I made the decision to go to University of Falmouth to study my Art & Design foundation, the same town that my then, boyfriend was studying in. Needless to say, University changes people and that relationship quickly began to unravel. We were two totally different people with totally different ideas about life. One day in September, out of the blue - I received a message on good old Facebook (this is the only positive thing I can find that Facebook has ever done for me) from a mysterious George, asking how I was and if I'd like to hang out soon.
I quickly realised that it was that George, the cute one with the crazy vampire teeth (I had learned his name by this point) and invited him to join me and some friends in Falmouth for a Folk Dancing night in the old pub on the pier.

He told me a teeny lie, that he could play the banjo in order to impress me. I challenged him and invited him to bring his banjo so that he could play me a song, and bring a banjo he did. But there was no song. Perhaps a dodgy version of deliverance at most. I was still impressed - I lugged my accordion all the way to Falmouth from my house to impress him too and it obviously worked - because Monday nights folk dancing became a regular thing and we became dance partners, falling in love to the sound of violins, constantinas and dancing the tarantella.

Eventually, my boyfriend and I decided the best thing to do was part ways. George and I were both single now - but out of respect for both of our previous significant others we kept our admiration for each other on the back burner, secret from everyone, especially each other and even ourselves.

George and I quickly became the best of friends - we were dance partners, having sleepovers on a regular basis having movie marathons of cheesy 80's fantasy films and started the beginning of our love of outdoor exploring together. By this point, everyone knew that we 'liked' each other except each other. We both thought the other one was just too cool for them :P But one night, we did a night time hike down to the beach through the woods, which involved me making a ten foot flight off of a rope swing. He stole my yellow hat and I chased him around the beach trying to get it back, I tripped over and fell in the sand. He flopped down into the sand next to me and we looked at the constellations above us. I told him I thought I could see Ursa Minor and well... Mushy Mushy Kissy Stuff.

In September, it will be four years since we started seeing each other. In those four years, I've learned so many new things and with Georges help, I've learned self acceptance and become a stronger being.  George has never asked me to be anyone other than who I am, has never tried to 'improve' me or made me feel insignificant and every day, I thank my lucky stars that I have such a selfless, kind and gentle creature to call my special other.

We've made a lot of memories in our time together - from a spontaneous 20 mile walk in the middle of the night to meet each other, endless rambles in the wilderness of Cornwall, climbing waterfalls, watching shooting stars and exploring old places like Edinburgh and Paris. This August, we'll be moving into our first flat together and I'm really excited as a new chapter of our life together begins.
I always think how lucky I am that we've slipped into each others lives so easily, that our families have both been so welcoming and supportive and our community has grown. I dislike being overly mushy, but George certainly deserves a tribute on this space as he is a massive part of my creative process being the companion to my many adventures, the assistant to most of my photographic endeavours and the other half of my folk duet.