A Valentine’s day message

I was talking to my love, Pippa last night, as we do. As it turned midnight and valentine’s day was upon us the conversation turned towards our meeting, our friendship, our first night together, what the hell happened? It was something neither of us had really expected, though perhaps had hoped for. I instantly liked Pippa when I first met her, warm and chatty, and we seemed to have quite a few things in common. It was a fun night, Cathy also being present, but of course at the end of it we each went our separate ways. Pippa and I had already chatted online quite a bit, especially when this night out had been arranged, but after we seemed closer, had more to chat about. She kept me up VERY late many times when I was working the next day but her humour was very moreish, and the time just flew, often 4am before I knew it, but I never wanted to stop. Sometimes I was unable to type, creased up with laughter, and had to resort to something I ever so slightly despise - text message style, "LOL". I had to apologise for doing this but explained when I typed that it was only because I wasn’t capable of typing anything else. The second time we met in person was at the Transmission second birthday party in Manchester, at one of the clubs we had visited on our first night out. Pippa hadn’t been able to book a hotel room, but I had a twin room so was glad to let her share. We were both a bit nervous about seeing each other in drab for the first time, but of course that was just us being silly. Something clicked as soon as she walked in the room, we sat on the bed and dived into conversation about nails, clothes, make up etc; things I’d never really had the chance to discuss properly with anyone, so despite its simplicity it was very special for me. We had a great night. Drank, danced, chatted, general partyment. I didn’t want to go to bed, so Pippa left me to it, and I stayed up until, actually I’m not sure, but I think I only had half an hour sleep or so before we had to get up and vacate our room. I knew that night, within 5 minutes in fact, that there was something special between us, a special friendship at least, so when a couple of weeks later Pippa said she would like to visit I was more than happy to have her.

The night she first stayed here will remain in our hearts and minds forever. Whilst I was cooking dinner Pippa said she hadn’t given me a hug yet, and was sorry that she didn’t do that as soon as she arrived, well she was all in leathers and crash helmet and stuff, not very tactile. About bloody time I thought, so we hugged. It was special. Something in the depths of my soul bubbled up closer to the surface and said, "Cooee Lucy, let me out, I’ve been hidden away for too long". It was a very lovely, lingering hug, Pippa felt wonderful and there was something electrifying between us. I had to break away as I was rapidly losing interest in the cooking. Neither of us wanted to let go though. We still talk about "that hug" even now. Bedtime, shall we say euphemistically, was not taken for granted, but it just had to happen, all that electricity had to be dissipated, and it felt so natural; it was meant to be. Very, very special, not to mention absolutely bloody mindblowingly amazing.

I have to pinch myself sometimes; falling in love with a man, transgendered or otherwise was something I had never in my life anticipated, and the love I feel for Pip is as strong, if not stronger than the love I have felt for any woman. Somehow it’s more real, I still don’t know why, but maybe it’s best not to, or maybe one simply can’t, explain these things in words. To me, only three words matter when it comes to Pip: I love you. Not that this stops us talking incessantly of course.

Thanks yet again, for everything Pip, for all you have done for me and for all you mean to me and for all that you are. Whatever happens, whether this is the only Valentine’s day we shall ever share together (we’ll have ours on Saturday ok babe?) or whether it be the first of many, you’ll always be in my heart and will always be a special person.

Whatever happens, je ne regrette rien.

xx