Eight Years

Today is the anniversary of the day Mr K and I first met.
A nerve-racking blind date with some bloke I'd met on the internet.
But I didn't feel as if I was meeting someone I didn't know. I was meeting someone I was already half in love with.
Reading Mr K's profile on Match.com I loved the words he used and the sense of himself that he managed to convey. He was obviously someone different and special.
The two weeks we spent emailing each other were magical. So many thousands of words.... .
Getting to know each other, sharing memories and gradually - tentatively - entwining our lives almost without realising we were doing it.
We were in no hurry to meet or speak. It was the writing that was special. I think we both knew that it was an extraordinary time and would end once we met and the new chapter began.
I remember late nights spent in front of the computer just writing - or waiting for - one last message. And then just one more.....
It was an incredibly heady time.
The reason for my nerves before our meeting was the fear that we wouldn't have the same connection in "real life"; that the future I was already visualising wouldn't materialise.
But of course it did!
We met outside the Jericho Café in Oxford. Both arriving at exactly the same time. Late!
Deliberately on my part - so I didn't have to sit and wait, watching the door. Characteristically on Mr K's part!
Rather than go in we went for a pint of bitter at the Eagle and Child. Practically downed in one by me. God knows what Mr K thought of me! Then brunch at the Jericho Café, followed by drinks at Mal Maison.
We didn't say goodbye until 6pm. Seven hours of chatting with (he might say at!!!) a stranger who wasn't really a stranger.
Eight years, wow!

This is a bit of a re-hash of things I've written before on our anniversary.
And by re-hash I mean it's a total copy and paste job!