We watched “I Love You, Man” over the weekend, and this quote from the movie struck a wistful chord with me: "You've dated a lot of women; what makes you think that she's The One you want to marry?”
I've had my fair share of boyfriends, each different from the next, but they all had one or all three superficial commonalities: tall, in the IT industry, and named David. Coincidences, I promise. When Dave and I first met, I nicknamed him D3 to avoid confusing my friends, who were losing track of the Davids in my life. Dave jokes that his biggest fear is the arrival of D4, as I trade him in for an upgrade. But honestly, D3 isn’t just another version. Apart from sharing a name, occupation, and height with my previous boyfriends, the similarities end there. For starters, Dave is my first Christian boyfriend, a detail that makes a world of difference in the dating game, where nobody gets to score.
Generally, couples are best friends by default. Ours is a special case because I was given the best friend role before the girlfriend title. He once said to me, “Sweetie, you’re nobody’s default best friend.” After almost 2.5 years, I'm still as giddy as I was on our first date. I tell him everything, from my Christian struggles, uni stress, and neuroses, to mosquito bites, shopping purchases, and lame sushi jokes. He is my best friend, my confidant, navigation system, foot warmer, a closet comedian with bizarre metaphors, and the greatest boyfriend in the world.
I appreciate all the grand gestures and especially the little things he does. He naturally, subtly walks on the side of the traffic. He always saves the best part of every dish for me, carefully shells my crab claws, and discreetly places them in my bowl. Chivalry is not only alive and kicking but also incredibly hot. But most of all, he makes me feel safe and protected. Even right now, with a thousand walls between us, I still feel like he is beside me. All the time.