Happy 23rd Birthday, Quinn!

I have to tell you about this guy. I’m going to try and not make it sappy, though I can’t promise anything.

About two years ago I noticed this guy in my intro to writing creative nonfiction class. I noticed him because he was one of the four or five men in the class, and at first I left it at that. But then I had to read his essay about haggis for a critique, and I couldn’t stop laughing. Then I really started paying attention.

The semester after that we had ADVANCED creative nonfiction in a much smaller class and ended up sitting next to each other. When I say “ended up” I really mean “I planned my seating arrangement around him because he was cute and funny.” We flirted like crazy the entire class and I actually feel really bad about how disruptive we were sometimes.

Then winter happened and during January I tricked him into a kind of date and after 7 hours of talking we made out a lot and then he was my boyfriend. It’s been almost ten months and I’m just as crazy about him as I was when I read that first essay, if not more.

Quinn is the kindest, funniest, smartest, most genuine person I have ever met. He’s a passionate and talented writer and actor, he’s a brilliant historian, and he’s an amazing human being. I have never once taken our relationship for granted, because it’s impossible to not feel lucky every single second that we’re together.

Happy birthday, Quinn, and even though I can’t be there since I’m at stupid Linfield, know that I’m thinking of you and hoping you have a fantastic day.