It’s been a year and a half since I first met Mike Neir on that fateful, rainy afternoon. Here we are, Valentines Day, in the midst of a bit of relationship turmoil with all its associated sturm and drang.
Valentines Day is not happening at a convenient time this year, but such is life. It’s a bit difficult to celebrate love and happiness and joy when part of oneself might want to smack one’s love on the back of the head and say, “you dumbass.” Which is not to say I have forgotten how amazing this guy is, or how much I love him.
In that year and a half, we fell in love, bought a house and conquered the depths of deep space together (or perhaps more correctly, it conquered us.) We settled into a routine prematurely and found ourselves in deep ruts. We’re working on that.
Spring is coming, and with it – many plans. Chickens and gardens for me, woodworking projects for him.
Still, it’s a good time to reflect upon the deep and abiding love and joy that grew, and that will quickly return once we get all this sorted and behind us.
I do love you, Mike Neir, you dumbass.
Some of you haven’t seen this before, so I’ll share with you how Mike and I met. Here is the story I wrote about six months after we started dating:
The True Story of How I Met and Fell in Love with Mike Neir
Giant Installment No. 1 – December 2, 2008
(With special appearances by Heath Ledger, Gordon Freeman, and Urine From the Roof)
For anyone who is not Mike or myself – this will be completely, utterly and in all other ways yawn-tastic. I want to tell this story for myself, and for Mike, and if any of you want to come along for the ride, please do. This is only the first chapter; believe it or not… there is More.
I know, for many people, “love at first sight” is a completely ridiculous notion, and while I can’t say what I felt when I first laid eyes on Mike Neir was A Deep and Abiding Love, it was certainly a close relation.
First, let me say this. I got my job pretty much as a complete fluke. I’d tangentially met Yellowmouser/Alex through our mutual friends in the Stilyagi Air Corps, but never in person. I knew some details of his life from his LJ, but not much. After we had both moved to Lansing through a series of coincidences, we struck up an acquaintance, hung out a little and he recommended me for a job at his place of employment. It was his recommendation that landed me the job, because my references page had two errors on it. Two! The hiring manager had a terrible time getting me vetted by my past employers, but she and I both persevered and the job was fine. I started mid-June of 2008.
My first exposure to Mike was an introduction to his website through a trainer at work. “You’ll want to bookmark this,” Jay said; “dude’s a genius.” I glanced at the page, was impressed with the author’s technical savvy and his ability to form a sentence, bookmarked it, and promptly never looked at it again.
Fast-forward a few weeks to July 19th, when LW rented us a movie theater on a Saturday afternoon for the premiere of the new Batman movie. The staff gathered in front of the cinema, everyone talking and comfortable with each other. I was still new enough to feel awkward and not quite fitting in, except with a few people. I loosely clung to Benny and yellowmouser, while trying to pretend not to feel highly uncomfortable. At one point, I was standing in line alone, while the other staff chatted around me, as I silently wished to shrink into the floor. I do well when people include me, but if they don’t… I don’t want to force myself upon them, so I retreat. Suffice it to say, I was feeling somewhat timid. yellowmouser came back and walked with me into the theater, and we selected a choice pair of seats. As I passed the occupant of the seat closest to me, I noted “oh hey, cute boy at 10 o’clock” in my peripheral vision, but I was too busy feeling shy to actually look at him. I remember being vaguely aware of a chorus of people talking to him until the previews started, but I never once glanced in his direction. As Heath Ledger worked his creepy Joker magic on-screen, I was tangentially aware of this boy sitting a few seats down occasionally laughing or making a quiet remark about the movie, but I was fairly wrapped up in the story and didn’t take notice of specifics. Thus, I spent my first few hours with Mike Neir generally ignoring him. 🙂
That night, Benny had a party at her house. This was a much more comfortable setting with fewer people I didn’t know, and I was having a good time even before I noticed the boy from the movie theater walking up the steps. He was wearing a red shirt with white print and a red hat. I could see by the dim light of the streetlamps he had these amazing sideburns and a kind face. As he came onto the front porch, he was telling a story about how, when he’d parked his car, someone from the house he was in front of yelled down that he couldn’t park there. I missed most of the details of this story, because I was busy being completely drawn to him. I didn’t know who he was, had no clue what sort of person he was… but I was enchanted. I completely lost interest in flirting with the two or three other people who’d had my marginal attention that evening.
The guy in the red shirt attracted a lot of attention from everyone, many of whom seemed surprised to see him. Mike Neir is not a social creature; it was largely serendipitous we managed to be at the same place at the same time under what turned out to be the right circumstances. As I previously noted, I can be horrifically shy, epically shy, when I don’t feel comfortable. I also typically don’t insert myself into someone’s personal space if I think they’re attractive, unless I have some kind of specific invite or another way in. I just don’t. As this new person was telling the strange tale of his parking experience, I watched him from the relative safety of the relative darkness, trying to figure out what was going on in my head. He was standing in my circle of people, and I nodded and smiled and make a comment or two about his story, and riding a tide of emotional bogglement as I tried to understand my reaction.
I remember only one other similar occurrence, and it was long, long ago – about 30 years ago, in fact. A moment when I realized something enormous was happening, but I wasn’t sure quite what it was. I was at Girl Scout camp in Harrison, Michigan, and my group was out in a meadow somewhere doing whatever activity we were supposed to be doing. The details have long since faded. What I remember, though, is one of the camp counselors, Chicago, and how I was behaving with her. It gradually dawned on me, “I’m acting like she’s a boy!!” and my little 8-year-old mind was completely floored. I had no concept of gay or straight at that point; I just knew how I felt about boys, and suddenly, there was this girl causing the same thoughts. It was a profound moment of realization for me, and even though I didn’t fully grasp its meaning.
The entire night on the front porch with Mike Neir was very similar to those moments back in Girl Scout camp. My mental footing was slowly but steadily pulled out from under me over the course of about a half hour. I watched him with intent eyes, and I watched myself in befuddlement.
After a time, Mike went upstairs to get a beer, and I went back to talking to my friends, but the entire time my attention was tunneled in on him, my eyes were flicking around, looking for him, wondering where he was, wanting him to come back. He did, then went to sit down on the swing and began talking to someone else. I moved to the opposite end of the porch, leaned against the railing and listened to him talking. I’ve no clue what he was saying now, and I wasn’t really listening then. My not-shy self wanted to go over and talk to him, to sit down next to him and see what he was about. My shy self was completely convinced he wouldn’t be interested in any such thing at all. He seemed comfortable in his surroundings and confident and commanding. It was clear he was well-liked. I stood there and battled with myself for a good fifteen minutes or so, but all the while, there was an overwhelming feeling of riding this slow, powerful tidal wave picking me inexorably up and being completely helpless to stop it – and not really wanting to.
For almost five months now, I’ve been trying to describe to myself what the feeling was. The only thing I can come up with was, “I belong THERE, next to him.” A sense of belonging. And while it took me a long while, months even, to be confident that my comfort was warranted, I was comfortable with him on a deep, core level from the minute I made the choice to walk across the porch and sit down next to him on that swing.
I remained fully planted there with him for a very long time, and we swung back and forth … more back than forth as there were objects on the floor preventing a full swinging motion, which resulted in quite a workout for various leg muscles, and we joked about doing isometrics. We talked about a host of subjects, the third person on the swing varied as time went by and I became more and more enthralled. I also became more and more certain this man had to have a girlfriend. A serious, wonderful girlfriend, whom he adored. I felt a sense of panic creep in, because I knew I belonged with him, and was convincing myself it couldn’t possibly happen. Undeterred, I stayed by his side, ferreting out little tidbits of information… like he’d just turned 29 a very short while ago. I reeled from that momentarily, but it was a small blow compared to 1.) he must have a girlfriend, and 2.) I am nowhere near cool/pretty/intelligent enough to interest him. I managed to overcome my instincts to run away and hide, though, and muddled through the insecurities.
There was another girl there, Diana, who also seemed keenly interested in Mike; she was far prettier and obviously more fun than I am, and she would periodically drag Mike away upstairs to get a beer while I quietly wanted to strangle her. Fortunately, she lived rather far away and had a boyfriend, and she was sweet and funny, so I managed not to slit her throat in a dark hallway. At one point, they came downstairs giggling about how Mike had somehow ripped a door off its hinges while he protested his innocence. Oh, how nice; you have an inside joke. Seethe.
We all ate thermonuclearly hot pizza together, and chatted about airplanes and Stuff and maybe I was a complete nuisance but I was focused. If we strayed apart for awhile, I would periodically call out, “Mike Neir, how’s your car?” just to touch base with him. The two boys and the girl I’d been flirting with eventually gave up for the night.
We ended up back on the swing, and at some point heard this liquid spattering noise behind us – someone was pissing off the roof and onto the broad-leaved bushed directly behind us. Soon after, Benny’s brother peed on his own car from the roof. Not just accidental splashing – full-bore, I’ve-been-drinking-for-hours, torrential flood of urine… onto his own car’s roof… on purpose. Ah, good times.
I had to work the following morning, so I left earlier than most. It was difficult to just voluntarily walk away from the fun of the party and from Mike, but I was a good little bee and did it anyhow. When I got home, I found him on Facebook. The next day, he replied back and thus began an online dialogue that seemed awkward and stilted at first, but I plowed ahead anyhow. I’d recently begun playing Half Life 2, and we bonded over that a little bit and he helped me solve an in-game quandary I’d been at for a couple of hours.
A week after we first met, he shaved his head and the sideburns, too. I had only seen him in person the one time, but the sideburns were this hallmark thing in my head for him. Shaved head? I wasn’t sure I liked that idea. A few days later, as I was leaving work around midnight, I passed by doorway where I saw someone standing whom I didn’t recognize. I was about to transition to third shift, knew there was a third shift supervisor named Dan I should meet, and thought maybe that was him. Dan had been inaccurately described to me as “a big guy.” This dude sort of fit the bill and was at work at the start of third shift. I walked back and said, before I really looked at this guy and said, “Are you Dan? I don’t think I know you.” “Yes you do!” the bald-headed dude said, perplexed, and I realized OMG this is Mike Neir. With nary a hair on his head. I apologized, touched his head, decided he looked better with hair and that I didn’t care.
A few days after that, a work bar outing was organized, and I strongly encouraged Mike to come. He did, and arrived before I did and there were no chairs near him so I was at the other end of the table. I could barely bring myself to look at him, so instead, I talked and laughed with other co-workers and had fun and drank a bit too much. The bar closed down and booted us out, but we weren’t done playing yet. We all trooped back to LW and proceeded to invade the lounge, where we shot pool, drank more beer and listened to music. Mike can shoot a good game of pool, and as some of you know, so can I. I’d gone beyond that magical point, though, of Sufficient Beer – that zone where alcohol shuts down the over-thinking of trajectory analysis and just lets me instinctively shoot. I couldn’t sink a shot to save my life… I could perhaps blame it on the table, which lacks any character at all, and the cues that went “clank!” with every stroke… but mostly, it was just me.
Eventually, he plopped onto the couch, and I, in my drunk and less inhibited state, plunked down next to him and laid down with my head in his lap. He resolutely did not touch me. Over the next 45 minutes or so, everyone else left, and it was just the two of us in the dimly-light lounge. He got up, adjusted the music, came back and let me settle back into his lap. A few moments later, I heard the haunting strains of Opeth’s Watershed album for the first time and fell in love with them. After an hour or so, we left and continued talking online. My beer-addled brain grappled with words that adamantly refused to adequately convey my vexation at his complete lack of interest. Instead, the first thing I wrote was, “confound you, Mike Neir,” to which he replied, “yeah, I can be pretty impossible; fair warning.” This is perhaps the most true and the most untrue thing about Mike all at once.
I drilled Benny about him; is there a girlfriend? No? Are you kidding me? How is that? His last one was no good? Where is she? I’ll punch her in the throat! Have you two ever slept together? No? Yay! He seriously doesn’t have a girlfriend?
Benny instructed me to calm down and give it time; two weeks, she said. In two weeks, she believed Mike would come around.
I did not, of course, calm down. Unable to take advice, I calmed up. I plotted.
Later that week, undeterred by his stubborn refusal to take an interest, I invited him over to DC2 (the building where my cube lives) to watch movies or some such in the lounge after my shift ended at midnight. We have a great lounge in DC2, complete with Xboxen, many overstuffed couches, speakers all around (and under the couches,) DVD players and assorted other toys all hooked up to the wall projectors. He suggested “Aqua Teen Hunger Force,” which I’d never seen before, and I readily agreed. He could have brought paint for us to watch dry and that would have been fine; the important part was bringing himself.
He got the DVD going and we settled into the front and center couch, immediately cuddled up with me under his arm. It was a natural, comfortable process. The awkward part was mental – I was nervous, while he seemed completely calm and collected. With his arm around my shoulders, he gently rubbed me with a thumb absently or tapped his fingers to the music. I was baffled at how at ease he seemed, and how physically at ease I was myself, the “I belong right here” feeling.
Hours later, in the wee morning, we were both tired and figured we should go home. One of the guys on his team came in and talked to us for awhile, and I was pleased Mike didn’t immediately shy away from me or try to act differently. He walked me to my car, where again I overcame my urge to be shy and said, “kiss me, Mike Neir.” He looked back toward the building and said, “but we’re on camera!” “Do we care?” “Well, kinda…?” and gave me two quick kisses before walking to his own car.
I felt somewhat euphoric, but it was just a tiny foreshadow of the grand, sweeping euphoria yet to come.
That’s the clinical, archival version of how we met and I managed to capture him. The bits to come are much more sickeningly sweet and gushy.