Yorkshire Boy and I have been together for just over three years, he works in advertising and I’m a journalist. Yorkshire Boy is suprisingly from Yorkshire, though you wouldn’t know it anymore, due to his geographically ambigious accent. I’m from the Cotswolds, went to boarding school, and sound rather posher than I’d like to sometimes.
We met at work, and for two years insisted – to ourselves and everyone else – that we were ‘just friends’. Then one night we went for a beer, in a bad Irish bar. Somehow the conversation got onto the subject of ‘us’, and the next thing I knew Yorkshire Boy was, rather dramtically, declaring: “If I don’t kiss you now, I never will.”
And so began the story of us. We’ve both changed along the way. Here are some things that weren’t true of us before Yorkshire Boy lunged at me in O’Neills.
- I like football, support Manchester United and have a fantasy football team. I’m currently 12th out of 26.
- Yorkshire Boy owns (and has read) several Booker Prize winning books.
- I have eaten (and decided never to eat again) bacon ribs; Yorkshire Boy in turn tried, and now loves, dim sum.
- Yorkshire Boy has been to an art exhibition and I’ve been a football match and eaten pie and Bovril.
- I’ve seen True Romance (I loved it) and Yorkshire Boy has seen The Fifth Element (he hated it)
- Yorkshire Boy has shot, killed, cooked and eaten a pheasant.
- I know where Yorkshire is, and can name some towns in it.
So after all that excitment, three years on, we’re taking the plunge and moving in together – quite a big deal for someone who likes to sleep in the starfish position, hates mess but sometimes leaves huge piles of clothes on her bedroom floor, spends too much money on posh wine glasses from Heals and watches bad, bad American tv when no one’s looking.
I’m sure there will be fights about loo seats, Sky Sports News and the washing up; and I’ve no idea what will happen when he discovers how drafty the sash windows are, or how many cracks there actually are in the walls. But, it’s all part of the journey, or so I’m told.
So in the interest of public health (mine mainly) and the freedom of information act, everything shall be documented here, for posterity.
(And so I can check back later on, during an argument and prove I was right.)