I Really Like You

I had arrived in Edinburgh from Australia in December 2004 and I was single, sleeping on a foldaway bed in the corner of my friend’s front room by May. An American friend had recently said to me that she was jealous of the ‘glamorous’ life I was living abroad and I couldn’t help but laugh whenever I thought of this. Glamorous was about as far from my reality as anyone could get. I had just moved house in a taxi and didn’t own a single pair of shoes that didn’t have a hole in the sole. I felt like a complete loser and wholly accepted responsibility for creating that situation for myself, but I wasn’t doing anything to change because I had no idea what I wanted to do.

I met my partner through mutual friends in late July, 2005. Neither of us was looking for love - she was pretty broken, coming out of a complicated break-up, and I was utterly defeated, not knowing where my life was going. I think we were both at a point in our lives where we felt we had already lost it all. Even though we are almost exact opposites in terms of personality, we have the same peculiar sense of humour and both took great comfort in finding someone to laugh with about anything and everything. She was a colourful oasis in an otherwise bleak landscape.

We spent August taking in the sites, sounds, smells and insanity of Edinburgh’s festival season. It’s a time where literally anything goes and there is a palpable buzz in the city. People lose their heads for the entire month and even the weather is unnaturally pleasant. I would meet C a few times a week and we would wander the streets, talking endlessly, taking in free shows, getting lost in various beer gardens and just immersing ourselves in each other. She made the world around me feel inspiring again.

In spite of the gravity between us, though, it seems like we have always had to jump through hoops to be together. From the first day we met, we both knew there was an expiration date on my time in the UK - I was on a temporary visa valid until October to complete a voluntary placement with a national charity. Neither of us considered any other alternative and C even encouraged me to find something positive to move on to. She got me in touch with a friend of hers in California who understood my reluctance to return to the USA, offered me a place to stay while I transitioned back into a life there and gave me a list of charities I could start off with to build some professional experience. C even gave me an ipod as a going away present – she is the most thoughtful and generous person I know.

In the September come-down, reality set in. One morning while we were getting ready to drive back to Edinburgh from C’s flat in East Lothian, she very bravely told me she couldn’t see me anymore because she liked me too much. We had already come so far and it was going to be almost impossible to say goodbye to me in a matter of weeks. She would rather end it now while there was still a chance she could let go. I couldn’t argue with her logic. I had left relationships and lives behind before and knew the kind of hurt it inevitably led to, regardless of good intentions at the point of departure. I did not want to hurt her like that, but I was devastated.

After she dropped me off, I sat for a long time staring at the wall in the front room that was my bedroom, thinking about what could possibly be ahead of me in this life. I had two degrees but no direction. I had countless places to live but nowhere felt like home. I had friends scattered all over the world but I was desperately lonely. I was tired of leaving things unfinished; so I decided to stop. I texted C to let her know that I was going to do whatever I could to stay here and begged her to keep seeing me. Looking back now, I knew I liked spending time with her, but I think I also had a sense that she was the kind of person who could help me find the confidence to take control of my life.

I found out that I could apply for an extended visa to stay as a volunteer in the UK. To do this I needed evidence that my family would support me financially. So I shamelessly phoned home to ask my Mom for a letter of support, copies of her bank statement and money (wired to my flatmate’s bank account because I wasn’t allowed one here in the UK). She could have easily said no, and I would have had no other option but to return to the USA. I often wonder if she ever considered that; I’m sure her heart was screaming out to do whatever she could to get me home. Instead, she did exactly what I asked without question and I had another year abroad. I was determined to come out the other end of it with all the things that had so far eluded me: direction, purpose and home.

People always joke that lesbians bring a moving van to the second date, and admittedly, with our relationship only in its infancy, my decision to stay in the UK was pretty heavy going. C was clearly happy that I wasn’t leaving, but from that moment on she has felt responsible for ‘keeping me here’. I still have to remind her that even though my decision to stay in the UK was inspired by her, I had left the USA for my own reasons long before I had known her. At the time, though, it put a lot of pressure on a relationship that previously had none. Still, hoop number one was successfully completed - we at least had an opportunity to see where the relationship could go.

Then came hoops number 2 through 100. The fact that I was going to be around longer meant I was no longer just a distraction in C’s life, and her ex-partner worked hard to try and sabotage us. For months it felt like everyone else had a reason to ‘warn’ us off getting involved with each other. Thankfully, the fact that we had previously assumed I was leaving meant we had been boldly open with one another from the start of the relationship. We understood each other well enough to withstand these external pressures and through trial and error managed to shed the people who seemed determined to be negative influences in our lives.

That’s not to say we weren’t cautious. We were both quite emotionally raw, and didn’t want to rush into anything too serious too quickly. C was very clear about waiting to introduce me to her family. She’d been in two long-term relationships in the past and knew that those break-ups had meant dissolution of the relationships between her ex-partners and her family. She didn’t want to re-start the process of establishing and developing new relationships until she was sure I wasn’t going to just disappear from her life.

I knew what my heart was telling me in those first six months, but would only ever admit to C that ‘I liked you’. I would end emails and text messages that way. It was eventually emphasised to ‘I REALLY LIKE YOU’. It became a bit of a running joke between us to see who could get in the most reallys.

C spent Christmas Day 2005 with her family and then came to see me in the evening. We exchanged presents and stayed up late, chatting and watching our Christmas candles melting into a red and green mess on the table. And then, we exchanged I love yous. This was getting serious...