There are milestones in relationships that every couple talks about. There’s the first time one of you says “I love you”, that first awkward meeting with his/her parents and the first date filled with obligatory questions like “What do you do?”, “What’s your favorite color?” and “What’s your sign?” But those aren’t the things that make relationships interesting. The things that really heat up relationships and define who we are as couples are those special little moments that we don’t ever speak about…but that doesn’t mean we can’t write about them.

For BF and me, there have been several events that signaled to me “Hey, this guy is really awesome and you should scratch out the eyes of any other gay boy who wants a piece of him.” Here are just a few:

The first time we met was in a crowded bar in Atlanta. I was there with my roommate at the time who was friends with BF’s realtor. They introduced us and before I knew it we were talking about Madonna, dissecting the gay boys in Atlanta and how they differed from the boys in our home towns and comparing the consequences that had led up to us living in Atlanta. We found out that we both loved Madonna, especially her “Vogue” years, had a fine appreciated for the corn-fed southern boys in Atlanta and had each moved down south to attend graduate school; me for architecture; him for business school. After a few hours and more Red Bull and vodkas than I’d care to admit I found myself searching for my roommate, wanting to make sure that my designated driver hadn’t abandoned me. We searched the bar with BF eventually pointing and asking “Is that he?” The fact that he properly used the pronoun “he” instead of “him”, like most other people would have said, made me instantly fall in love with him and, because of the amount of alcohol I’d consumed, I planted a big wet kiss on his lips.

Next was the following evening on our first date. The drunken kiss I smacked on his lips the night before hadn’t scared him away, and BF decided to see me the next night. We started the evening at a pool party where we stood on the sidelines, made fun of all the older men in banana hammocks trying their hardest to look twenty-two and got to know each other. Later, we went to a dance club and hung out for a couple of hours. We decided to slip outside and I bought a pack of gum from the vending machine in case BF wanted to make out. Unfortunately, he didn’t. I popped a piece of gum in my mouth anyway, just in case and fiddled with the silver wrapper. I wrapped around BF’s finger and said something totally stupid like “I guess this means we’re married.” Without missing a beat, he turned to me and said “I have to warn you. I only marry for money.” I think that’s when I started to fall in love with him.

I totally fell in love with him on my birthday about six months later. BF threw me a surprise birthday party and invited all my favorite chums from grad school. But it wasn’t until he led me to our bedroom that I was really surprised. I opened the door and there was Homo Honey sitting on my bed. Knowing that I was totally obsessed with her, BF arranged for her to come down for the weekend to be part of my birthday celebration. It was the sweetest present anyone had ever given me and I still get goose bumps when I think about it nine years later. And the icing on top of the cake is that Homo Honey and BF totally fell in love with each other that weekend, too. They are so close, in fact, that they’ve been on vacation without me.  It’ magic when the two people you love the most love each other.

The final and probably most significant unspoken turning point that forged our relationship forever happened a few months after my birthday. I was lying in bed, reading a magazine while BF slept beside me. All of the sudden, he ripped a fart that would have startled Helen Keller. I looked down at him just as he was waking up. The fart was so loud that it actually woke him up. He looked at me and I looked at him and, as if we were twelve years old, we both erupted in a fit of laughter that must have lasted at least two minutes.

BF is probably going to kill me for writing that last paragraph, or maybe give me a Dutch over, but I’m willing to pay the price. It’s a cute story and one that we still laugh about to this day. So, the next time you’re with your friends swapping relationship stories, forget the tired clichés and tell everyone about the time you caught your honey picking their nose or the first time you went number two in front of them. I’m sure it’ll make the conversation a little more interesting.

My advice to BF: Don’t be mad. It’s a cute story and I didn’t use your real name.

My advice to everyone else: Savor those small, seemingly inconsequential moments in your relationships, whether they’re with your parents, you’re loved on or your besties. Those are the things that, over time, that you’ll remember.