Jason survived being my Plus One to my own comedy show with immense grace. He has such a good sense of humor about all the men I've dated before him, mostly because they have been completely ridiculous. More than that, he's got a good, strong head on his shoulders and sees the world from a logical, practical, even-keeled approach which perfectly balances out my emotional, sensitive, hopeless romantic style. As such, he also has an excellent sense of humor about dating me and all that comes with it. Even when that means meeting 35 of my closest friends and family in one night, hearing my dating stories as told from behind a microphone on stage at the Gramercy Theater, and having attention drawn to him as the 100th Cup (but no pressure!)
Jason was not the focus of my storytelling show, but he was certainly the highlight. I regaled the audience with tales of my failed marriage and my awkward dates but I ended with the best lesson I've learned from this journey: Kiss a frog. Kiss a hundred frogs. Kiss a thousand frogs if you have to. You never know which one will be your prince.
And as I walked off stage, Jason kissed me. The kind of old glamour Hollywood style kiss that got the audience screaming, cheering, and applauding for us. It wasn't planned (my life rarely is) but it was the exact punctuation that my story needed. I've never talked about a relationship I'm in while I've been in it, and it was a little weird making fun of him and us while he was standing right there. That being said, I cannot imagine anyone handling himself with more class and humility than Jason did that night. He was the epitome of everything I need in a man.
If the fantastic show wasn't enough, my entourage of friends, family and fans walked a few blocks north to the same restaurant where Emily Giffin held her cocktail party for the launch of Something Borrowed a few years ago. I remember thinking that was exactly what I wanted to have when I was "famous" so I treated myself to a fab night out after the show with all the people who came to support me. As it turned out, Jason was the one to treat me. He picked up the tab for everyone's food which was no insignificant bill. He kissed my forehead in the way he usually did, the kind of kiss that says "you are the most special person in my life" and told me he was happy to do this small thing for me. He was so proud to be dating this funny, smart, beautiful girl who was the envy of everyone in the theater, and thrilled to be a part of my night.
"My night" he called it. What I really wanted him to say was that he was my boyfriend. Two delicious cocktails later, that was exactly what I asked him to be. We'd been dating for a few months, he met all my friends and family (at once, the poor guy!) and I was crazy about him. I approached it third grade style with a simple "Do you want to be my boyfriend, yes or no?" Jason, never once seeming flustered by me, tilted his head slightly to one side and replied "I thought I already was."
So there you have it. I'd been ripping my hair out trying to decipher if we were seeing each other, dating, or if Jason was truly my boyfriend, and he'd been my boyfriend all along. I had no reason to worry, no reason to doubt him. Jason gave me every assurance he possibly could that he cared about me as much as I thought he did and he knew I cared about him just as much. We were quite the pair, the scientist and the writer, the pragmatist and the precocious, the realist and the romantic. Yet we worked. We made sense. We were a weird pair but we were, in fact, a pair. I had finally found my Frog Prince, my fairy tale ending, my happily ever after. Jason was my forever.