In which Sabra gets all mushy.

I'm listening, right now, to KFWR's internet stream. It is only one of many wonderful things Erik introduced me to. (Minds out of the gutter...I introduced far more of that to him, anyway.) Texas country. Otherwise known as real country music. Hayes Carll, Bleu Edmondson, Cross Canadian Ragweed, Jason Boland, Randy Rogers Band, und so weiter. Good shit. I don't know why San Antonio doesn't have a Texas country station; KJ97's 10pm-to-midnight show doesn't cut it.

We started reading each others' blogs around the same time--the beginning of July. I first commented on one of his posts on 9 July. Surprisingly enough, this was not directly related to music. We didn't really get into it about that topic until the end of that month. He has since told me that comment of mine, about singing "San Antonio Rose" to my girls as babies (well, before they were even born, really) made him sit up and take notice of me...but he's also the only person since I was a teenager who overestimated my age.

I've told him he was my blog crush. That he had a window of opportunity that had started to close by the time he finally came through it. All of this is true. He has told me he took notice of me almost immediately but didn't think he had much of a chance, but figured he'd better go for it when I started talking about Fred.

I told him the first or second time we chatted on Facebook that I wasn't going to make him any promises. Truth be known, it was myself I was trying to convince, not him. I knew long before I ever heard his voice that I was going to fall for him. What I did not know was how fast, or how hard. An acquaintance told me he didn't really "get" the online dating thing. And that's OK. Because I really don't, either.

Those of you who happen to read Erik's blog will not be surprised by this: He is exactly the same in person as he is in that blog. And discovering that is what made me fall in love with him. Here is the one thing I never thought to find: a person who has as little patience for the typical romantic games and BS as I do. He is honest, and he is forthright, and he haz teh critical thinking skillz. He is also easily distracted, being prone to what we term "Ooh, shiny!" moments. This means he's OK with mine, which are sometimes quite literal (light fixture, baby? ;-) ).

We talk. Neither of us ever shuts up. Our phone discussion last night covered Taylor Swift, the joke that the CMAs have become, moral relativism, reasoning from what is to what ought to be (and why you really can't), Brad Paisley vs. Bleu Edmondson, deontology vs. consequentialism, and more.

He shares my habit of overanalyzing country songs. He was not bothered at all when, on his birthday, I took a breather from making out with him to critique the song that was playing on his Sirius radio at the time. We share, as he has said more than once, a love of the old country, too. His favorite Merle Haggard song is "Rambling Fever." Mine is "That's The Way Love Goes." While his ex-girlfriend (whom we've jokingly named Kitty-Eater) looked at him like he was eating a kitten when he sang along with Merle singing Bob Wills, I have told him he hooked me by playing me that very song the first night we talked on the phone. We've debated the finer points of different versions of the same song (CCR's vs. Ray Wylie Hubbard's "I Wanna Rock and Roll"; CCR's vs. RRB's "This Time Around", the eleventy billion versions of "I Don't Think Hank Done It This Way" and more).

We share a love of the written word. He carries a pen tucked behind his ear. He appreciated it when I took a red pen and copyedited some signs in one of the bathrooms at school. We have long discussions not only of the finer points of grammar and punctuation (he lacks my devotion to the Oxford comma, poor deluded soul) but of journalism, newspapers, the study of journalism, and the writing skills--or lack thereof--possessed by the folks in my Creative Writing class. He makes his living doing something absolutely anachronistic for this era, and he loves the way I am somewhat knowledgeable about his field and more than willing to discuss the finer points of it with him. And that rocks.

At the risk of TMI: This post of his caught my eye very early on. It's unusual, these days, to find someone like that. His lovers outnumber mine by exactly one. He is careful (and I do not just mean in a safe sex manner). I appreciate that. It was a good hint to me that he was my kind of man. And, well, he is enthusiastic. Having been married to a man who not only never wanted to have sex but seemed to make it a point to make me feel bad for wanting to...it's a hell of an appreciated change. I'll just leave it at that.

He has an excellent sense of humor, sometimes self-deprecating. He does have a habit of misunderestimating himself, but the flip side of that is there's not a self-centered bone in his body. At the same time, he is quietly confident in me. In us, I should say ("I know what I want and I will not stop until I get it" <--actual quote). In practical terms, this means that I can wear high heels that make me slightly taller than he (he's only 2 inches taller than I am--yay for short guys!) and my comment earlier about tossing his scrawny gimp ass across the room made him laugh, not get offended.

He is, as I have said elsewhere, a true gentleman. The best of what Texas has to offer. Y'all should hear the way he speaks of his mama. And his stepfather, for that matter. Or his grandmama, or his nephew, or his uncle...Or, for that matter, my kids.

Most importantly, perhaps: We have a shared outlook on life. We believe much the same way. We think similarly. We both want a little piece of Texas countryside and a passel o' floppy-haired chilluns.

I am still more than a little in awe of this. He has said before that he likes the way that, when we are together, I cannot stop touching him. This is why: I am amazed by him. He is what I did not think even really existed. He likes me. This is a strange statement to make, yes. But the truth. All those little quirks of personality my ex-husband merely tolerated, Erik revels in. (He's said he got a feeling long ago that we would be very good for each other. And he was right. And every time I think of that, I get chills.) And because he is so much like me, I am able to relax and be myself in a way I was never really able to before. It wasn't until I met him that I realized this is the way things are supposed to be.

But I'm glad I know now.