This is him.
This is the love of my life. Yannick Chauncey Periou, the handsomest, smartest, sexiest man I had ever met. His life ended tragically this year in August. This is a picture of him while we were dating, he's holding his darling niece. The other one is right after we had broken up for a little while in December, he was at his step-brother's wedding. Sadly, that's not me with him in the picture, but since I turned down his invitation for the new year's party after we broke up, I can't be too jealous.
Yannick and I spent more time together than I ever did with anyone outside my family. He and I went on so many adventures I couldn't ever write them all down.
We met in math class, Linear Algebra. I was taking it because I was bored and wanted a challenge, he was taking it because he was going to be a mechanical engineer.
I joined the class late, but the first day I was there I sat down right next to him and asked what I had missed. The first thing I noticed about him was his good looks, his dark hair and green eyes. In the next couple of classes I made casual conversation, I wasn't looking for a boyfriend, I just wanted to be friendly and he looked like a smart and nice guy. Talking to him made me a little excited for some reason, he was just one of those quiet but brilliant guys that get overlooked sometimes.
Within a week, I was still a little behind in class, I didn't understand how to do the homework and it took me hours to figure it out every day. After class as he and I walked out the door, I asked if he would ever want to study together. He said yes and asked for my number, as we were exchanging contact information I finally asked him what his name was, it was Yannick.
I'll admit I fretted a little over texting him, I didn't want to appear too eager or needy or anything, I wanted to come off as cool, collected and smart, but I felt anything but that. We arranged a time to meet and study. We met at the library, he told me to meet on the mezzanine. I had no idea what a mezzanine was. That was our first inside joke, there was just something about us and the mezzanine after that. He loved to tease me, and I loved to be teased and tease back. But we didn't start off so comfortably. That first study session in the mezzanine, I couldn't concentrate at all on the math. I must have looked so dumb, because I just went along with whatever he was saying, but even with my slow processing skills, he and I finished in around an hour, which was two hours less than it would have taken me to do it on my own.
Even though I was unsure of how our studying would work, since I apparently was too nervous or excited or something when I was around him to think properly, we decided to study together again. This time was a little better, but I still felt like a bumbling idiot. The next time, we met on the third floor. This was when I began to fall in love.
I had Googled his name, I mean, how many guys are named Yannick? It was the French version of John. I asked him about that later, if he was French or just his name. He was French. His father was born in France and he had been there to visit him before his father had passed away. I was a total Franco-phile at that time. Over the summer my sister and I had read all about French fashion, food, and parenting. When I heard Yannick had been to France I asked him all about it. We had finished doing Linear Algebra homework and just sat up on the third floor and talked. He drew a map of France on the back of my notebook and told me about the wonders of Europe. He hadn't been to Germany though, that was one of the countries he still needed to visit. I wanted to visit there too and I told him I was going to beat him there to Germany, we were competitive and silly and both of us insisted we would be the first one to get to Germany, which turned out to be another long lasting conversation topic.
With the topic of being French I asked him if he was Catholic. My grandpa was from France and he was Catholic, so I figured it was a safe guess. I had been thinking about if Yannick was a member of the LDS church like I was, I had been hoping he was actually, but I had the strong impression that he wasn't. He had already told me he was 25, and that he was in school now because he had been in the army. Typical Mormon guys don't join the army, they go on missions at that age and most were married by 25. To my surprise he told me he wasn't Catholic. My hope built again, and I asked what religion he was. He told me, Atheist. That answer changed everything.
That night Yannick and I stayed at the library talking until it was around 7pm, a good 3 hours straight after studying. When I got home, my parents wondered what had taken so long, I told them about how interesting Yannick was, a French atheist, like no one I had met before.
After studying for the fourth time, we went on our first date. We had finished studying together and he asked if I wanted to get some food. We went to his favorite restaurant, Durangos, a Mexican restaurant I had heard about but never had been to. The food was delicious, it's now my favorite place for eating Mexican. I felt a little nervous because he paid, but I didn't know if he was just being nice or if this was a date. I couldn't think of what to talk about, and I blurted out such an awkward question. I asked how his dad died. Yannick said he'd rather not talk about it then, but maybe he'd tell me someday. I felt so bad for asking, but he smoothed things over by talking about other things. He told me how he had ended up at our school, from joining the Army to becoming engaged to a girl that he eventually broke the engagement off with. Also, that he was planning on transferring to another school, maybe in Texas, or Washington. He and I both loved the rain and we talked about how nice it would be to live in Seattle. My dream school was always the University of Washington, and Yannick was born close to Seattle, so he knew how nice it was there.
After the food, I went to work and had some time to think by myself about things. I knew I was in big trouble. I had a huge, overwhelming, heart-throbbing crush on Yannick, who I could barely have a normal conversation with and who was Atheist. It was huge, and I knew it would cause trouble. I began right then and there trying and telling myself to stop liking him so much. It was a miserably failed effort.
Our next study session was right before our first test. I needed a notecard to put the allowed equations on for the test. I didn't have one, so Yannick went home and brought me some from his house. I repaid him for the notecards and the Durangos meal by taking him out to dinner. We went to an Asian, fast/casual place. I was feeling more comfortable with him by now and I was starting to really enjoy talking to him.
That night I found out he loved to run, and he was good at it. He ran 8 miles like it was nothing. We talked about books, he loved to read, an essential part of him I found out that night was his favorite book, Atlas Shrugged. That was the book he said changed his life and helped him shape the outline for his life ethics, morals, and philosophy. By this time I was thinking this guy couldn't be real. He was drop-dead gorgeous in a down to earth, completely masculine, boy-next-door way, he had ambition and work ethic, he wanted to be an engineer, he was as intelligent as me, and smarter, he had traveled, he was French, he spoke Mandarin Chinese, he loved the rain, he was from Seattle, loved to run and take care of himself, loved to read, and had thought about big questions and had a high moral code for himself. I didn't know how I had found the perfect guy, or that I was so lucky as to be out with him on a date, it seemed surreal.
We left the restaurant, it was raining and I was driving. When we got back to the school he had to get my book out from his car, so we both got in there and just sat and talked again. It was getting late, and I needed to get home, but I told him exactly what was on my mind, that it was crazy cause we had already spent 6 or 7 hours together but for some reason I still didn't want to leave. He told me it was crazy that he felt exactly that same way. The conversation turned to something else, the rain pattered on the windshield and we both were close enough that when he looked at me in that perfect way of his, everything stopped for a single long moment and he kissed me. The kiss surprised us both. It's always a bit of a shot in the dark for a first kiss, we were both engaged and intrigued by each other, but neither of us expected that kiss to be what it was. Electric. There was something about it, something that drew me in to this near stranger, something deeper, we just fit and it felt good. He felt it too. The look he gave me after wasn't shock, it was a bemused expression, like he was wondering why I didn't tell him before what I was.
The next day was the test, which we took around the same time. He finished before me and I came out feeling that I had surely failed it. I had thought about our kiss, and I didn't want to expect anything from him. I figured maybe he was just one of those guys that don't take a kiss to mean much. I would have been happy with that, I didn't want my fairy tale kiss to be complicated, it was perfect and if we left it at that I would be fine. But, when I left the testing center, he was still outside, he had waited for me, to ask me about the test and reassure me I hadn't failed. And then he kissed me again. I knew for sure, this wasn't going to be just a kiss.
