I’ve had a few people ask me of late about the boyfriend, so I’ll share. His name is Pete, or Peter, or Petya (which is his Russian nickname) depending on my mood. He’s a 6th and 7th grade history teacher (god, how cute is that?). He lives in Massachussetts. He’s blindingly hot- at least I think so. He has the most shockingly blue eyes I’ve ever seen. And nice teeth. He’s also exceptionally good with accents, and can, and does, send me into regular gales of laughter with said accents.
Yes, I know, I can hear you pelting with me with questions (all 4 of you who read this!). How in the hell did you end up dating someone who lives in MA, which is 900 miles away from you?
I think I actually need to preface this with a little backstory.
Ok, for the last almost two years, I’ve been reenacting. It started after I worked at Drayton Hall Plantation, which was the host of the 225th anniversary of the Siege of Charleston (that’s during the American Revolution, for those of you who don’t spend your days obsessing over history). It was amazing and incredible and Isoon found myself up to my eyeballs in reenacting. I’ve stayed that way since. If you’re curious, I reenact with His Majesty’s 17th Regiment of Foot. You can read more about them on the website if you care, and also stalk me.
Here I am, in all my 18th Century finery (which I make myself, hence the sewing journal):
Pete also reenacts. And totally kicks my ass on the experience factor, as he has been doing this for 17 years now. Anyway, I sorta kinda have known him for almost 2 years. In fact, the first time we met was actually at the 225th Charleston event I mentioned above, although it wasn’t so much us meeting as it was me stammering something silly about his uniform and trying SO! DESPERATELY! not to make an ass out of myself because oh my god those eyes! He does not remember this, which is probably for the best.
I met him again a few months later at another event and, although we were officially introduced to one another, it was brief and I hardly saw him at all. That did not, however, stop me from naming our future cats and laying out the garden. Which I did. I promise I’m not actually crazy. I’m obviously joking about the cats and the garden part. Which I’m sure you belive. Right?
Fast foward to this past June when we were both at an event together again. And this time, we actually spent a good deal of time with each other. Nothing happened, because he had a girlfriend and I had an “it’s complicated,” but we struck up a friendship and kept in touch and yadda yadda yadda. Then, suddenly, it’s october and his girlfriend now had a big, beautiful X in front and my “it’s complicated” had become a “this is my really good friend…” and lo and behold, he’s going to be in Virginia for the 225th anniversary of the Battle of Yorktown. And yes, it is 7 1/2 hours away, but he’s going to be there. And he wants to see me! MEEEEE!! So I went. And it was perfect and amazing and I was persuaded to go against all of me reservations about getting involved in long distance relationships and got myself into one.
And I’m ridiculously happy. He’s all the things I insist on in my boyfriends- smart, witty, and funny- and many things I usually don’t- responsible, driven, and grown up (I know! Imagine me dating a guy who is actually mature!). But he’s also incredibly kind and devoted and loyal. I respect him a great deal and am inspired by him. And I know I’ve spent almost my whole life trying to convince myself that I’m a cynic and that little cutsie love things make me roll my eyes. But I’m not, and they don’t, and he’s such a romantic and it makes me smile those big crinkly-eyes smiles. And he plays rugby (rowrrr) and he sails! And he has the most fabulous family. They are all funny and warm and incredible. And I have a fierce hetero-crush on his sister. She’s cooler than I will ever be. I want to be her best friend. But Him? Him I adore.
So there. That’s the story of me and Pete.