It's a long story...
I was studying abroad in his country, a country which is FULL of stunning women, whose only wishes are to marry young and then fulfill every wish of their man until they die. No, really, czech women are doormats.


We met in a wine cellar, both pissed, both single, and we chatted all night. 8 months later, at a party in a friend's grandmother's garden (don't ask), I saw a man walking up the hill towards us, and felt, I don't know what - a jolt, something telling me that this man was important, that one day he and I would marry. So we spent another day chatting, chatting, gazing adoringly at eachother.


Then I had to go back to the UK. I had his email address, he had mine, and I had a degree to finish. I threw myself into my work, and when I did think about anything other than parasites, it was him. We emailed occasionally, with our emails getting longer and longer, and then he decided to come and visit me, as he'd never been to the UK.


The day he arrived in Glasgow, I was shaking so much with nerves, I had to get my mother to drive me to the airport to collect him. He came back to our house, mum talked at him, whilst he and I just stared across the table at eachother, until my parents went to bed. Then we said goodnight, and went to our separate rooms.

The following day, I took him and a friend up to the Isle of Skye (beautiful island for any b3tans who haven't been there!)


We finally got to Skye (after a 12 hour journey, god only knows how), and went straight to the pub, where we drank our body weight in Talisker single malt. Then he kissed me, and since then, 4 years, 2 months, and 15 days ago, we have been together. He moved to London to live with me whilst I was studying there, supported me during my PhD, and during the associated mental breakdown. He's as near to perfect a man as I think I ever want to find.


So why the fuck have I moved to america?!



Anyway, the answer to the question is:

we drank a lot, then kissed.
( ascorbate, Thu 28 Aug 2008, 20:02, Reply)