I don't know if this counts as a milestone in a year celebrating milestones, but had Rick lived, this weekend would have been our 25th anniversary. I was in one of those moods to break out the Spumante and have a glass (or three) to celebrate the milestone.
One person I knew would have probably said, "25 years. OK one gay year = seven straight years. OH. MY. GOD."
But that was not meant to be, so I am now memorializing both that and the fact this weekend marks 12 years since his mother passed away. That was a weekend to remember in that Rick's Precious Sister decided to issue the diktat that I was persona non grata at his mom's funeral. Although no one was surprised, it was still upsetting and set the stage for a truly ugly situation where I had to carry out orders that Precious Sister was not happy with.
But that is another story. Right now I am reminiscing about this relationship and one other.
The housemate and I went out on Thursday - the anniversary of the Amante's death. The Uber driver was from - Guatemala.
Talk about Karma.
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