So, Simon King was really in my bedroom. The man I'd been chatting with for two months was no longer living in my computer, he was real and sitting a meter away from me and I still had a project to finish and school in the morning. So I did my best to focus on my work, checking every 15-30 seconds that Simon was still sitting in the pink, fuzzy chair behind me and hadn't disappeared back into my computer where he usually hid.
I planned to keep his arrival quiet so that I could have him to myself, at least for that night. But of course my excitement got the best of me and I changed my Facebook status to share my utter joy of this event. Seconds later, Lisa begged to come over and I had to share Simon for about an hour.. she, too, could barely believe that he was really here. I didn't get a minute of sleep that night, for fear that it would all turn into a dream and Simon would disappear.
The next day at school was excruciating, I had dropped Simon off at Lisa's and was calling during every break to make sure that he was still alive and hadn't escaped (this went on all week, I'm surprised nobody called me out for being the psycho I was). I made it home in record time to pick Simon up so that I could soak up every minute I had with him. Of course, it was Lisa's birthday so I had to share him with her family, and I did not take well to sharing Simon that week. That night, after we'd gotten home and were laying in bed, I couldn't take it anymore. I was bursting with love, but it was going to be insane if I admitted that after less than 48 hours together. So I hinted around with a "There's something I really want to tell you, but I think its a little bit crazy..." and before I could finish, Simon said "I love you. I fell in love with you when I saw you at the top of the stairs."
That was the highlight of my life up until that point. The man of my dreams told me he loved me, I wasn't the only crazy person in this relationship because he loved me too. I was set, I knew I never wanted to lay my eyes on another man for as long as I lived. I didn't want to spend even a second away from him.. but I didn't really have a choice. I had school all week and Simon was leaving on Sunday (only five and a half days with him and I had school on three of them). I got really possessive the rest of that week; I got mad at Lisa for building a snow man with him, scolded Wesley for keeping him at the pool hall for too long, and refused to take him to meet pretty much anybody because that took away time I had alone with him.
The rest of the week was a blur, it went by way too fast. Simon unsuccessfully made his first snow angel, I took him out for some of America's most gourmet cuisine (Uno's Deep Dish and Hooter's), I taught Simon what an ice scraper was, he nearly froze to death a few times, he met my dad in his pajamas while I was at school, I took him to the Art Institute, and we learned that we couldn't live without each other.
That Sunday was the first of a series of three worst days of my life. I had to take him to O'hare Airport to fly back to Australia. Watching Simon walk into that terminal was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I pulled over three times on the way home because I couldn't see through the tears anymore. How was I going to be apart from him until April?
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