And then V moved away.
And I surprised myself by really really missing him. I generally don’t do missing. When people go away, I turn the part of me linked to them off and can function pretty much normally. When they come back, if I like them, I turn it back on and we pick up where we left off.
Missing someone all the time was a shock.
It also spawned the start of what later became the hallmark of our relationship. Frequent and meaningless phone calls. We would call each other every few hours. This was another shock to everyone who knows me. I don’t do phone calls. I pretty much avoid talking to people on the phone. I don’t know why phones make me so uncomfortable when I can probably talk nineteen to a dozen in person. But they do. It’s probably because silences are so awkward over the phone.
But when your boyfriend’s in a another city, you don’t have a choice. You suck it up and make conversation. Even if there’s nothing to make conversation about every few hours, you master the art of making conversation about nothing. You describe every inane thing. You giggle. You make loving noises. You are basically disgusting to anyone listening. But hey, then don’t listen. You revel not in words but in the hearing of them.
We had also decided to try and see each other every couple of months. A month after he left, V came back for some work-related thing. (You see how all this work-related travel has been plaguing me all my V-ed life?). And then a few months later, I flew to Bangalore.
We drove to Ooty. I had never been before. It was beautiful.
We first stopped at Coonoor and got a room. And there for the second time in my life, I was proposed to when butt naked. Only this time I was butt naked and crying.
So to quell my tears, V made me close my eyes and when I opened them, he was down on one knee (still sans clothing) with a ring.
And with the panoramic view of Coonoor town behind us, we were I guess engaged.
Strike three on the proposal stage.