When I first met my husband I was 26, I was at a party at a friends house the night before I saw the Rolling Stones live for the first time, I was dancing around her kitchen to said band, gleefully telling everyone how much I wanted to shag Mick Jagger and I didn’t care how old he was. I’m not sure if that’s the thing that made him think “yep that’s the girl for me” but I like to think it left a lasting impression.
We didn’t get together until about 6 months later when we were at another party, high on life and chewing each other’s ears off about The Kinks and Nirvana, as with any good story there’s much more to it then that but from then on we were pretty much inseparable.
My husband was 23 and back then he had this reputation as being a sweet but angry-at-life crazy punk rock party boy.
He was small and impish with the start of what would grow to be a pretty impressive Mohawk and he reminded me of Puck from A Midsummer Nights Dream. I thought he was beautiful. He stood for all that was unholy and rebellious and wild, but most of all he was so full of love and he just wanted to be happy.
That was 11 years ago and we’ve been by each other’s side ever since, 6 years ago I took him to his first Glastonbury and he was never quite the same, he came back a little less punk and a little bit more hippy, some of his anger dispersed and he fell a little bit more in love with life, the mowalk grew out as his curls grew longer he became less impish puck and more hairy hippy.
We’ve been on lots of wonderful adventures together, from Glastonbury to Thailand to our gorgeous barn wedding to the Greek islands, There have been sad times, over last 10 years, we’ve lost too many friends and family, suffered too much tragedy, we’ve been through dark days of arguments, working though our different ideas of life, making it up as we go along.
I’ve spent more long weekends in the past then I would like to admit alone, silently worrying where he was in the days where he liked the party lifestyle a little bit too much, but all things pass and change and now a days Mr Gypsie is more likely to be found on the sofa watching Antiques Road Show on a Sunday evening then rolling through the door after a weekend long bender.
His youthful anger given way to chilled out wisdom and let it be attitude to life.
He’s funny, kind, charming, thoughtful, still has a little bit of a wild side, makes me laugh, allows me the run of our marriage, his best friend is our gorgeous pup.
Everybody loves my Gypsie husband, our friends, my family, people we meet along the way, but no one more so then me.
Today is his birthday. Happy Birthday my gorgeous impish hairy weird and wonderful husband…