The thing that has surprised me most over the past few weeks is how easy it was. It was easy to fall in love. There was no complication, no hilarious misunderstanding, no Bill Pullman to be dumped. I met him, we talked, we put our arms around each other and I was in love. Simple, easy, and really, unavoidable. It feels right. It feels righter than anything I've ever felt.

His name is Scott Tenorman. Well, it’s not, really, but that's the pseudonym we decided upon while watching South Park one night. It's all about Radiohead. Scott loves Radiohead. We've already established that he is allowed to leave me for Thom Yorke, but that's okay since I'm permitted to leave him for Tina Fey. But, basically, unless Tina or Thom come calling, nobody's leaving.

We met because of this site. Boyfriend Search 2002, it turned out, was not such a failure after all. When I went to the TWoPcon, a lovely woman who we'll call Pez told me she had read my site and asked if the search was still on. She said she had someone who "hates tomatoes as much as you do." I did not realize that my hatred for tomatoes was my defining characteristic, but if it meant a date, why not. I gave her my number, she passed it to Scott, and so on. She told me that he was my age, lived very close to me and somewhat resembled Anthony Edwards. I am a sucker for a balding man with glasses. I have no idea why, but I am.

We talked on the phone a couple of times. He seemed very funny and smart and we seemed to have a lot in common. We scheduled a coffee date for Wednesday, but after a Tuesday spent exchanging e-mails, he asked to move up the date. No one had ever moved up a meeting with me, let alone a date.

You see, I don't have what one would call an extensive dating history. Until this point, of the handful of dates I'd been on, none had been second dates. In fact on the most successful date, the guy had taken me to Arby's. But, something about this one felt different.

The first time I saw him, through the window of the Starbucks on Laurel Canyon and Riverside, my immediate thought was that he was way too cute for me. All of my faults began dancing in my head, waltzing along to the cool jazz version of The Nutcracker Suite being piped into the place. I smoke. I don't have a job right now. I have an excess chin in photographs. There's back hair - not a lot - but it's there.

The minute he shook my hand, though, I immediately started to feel like maybe I could tell this guy about my 10 year Lego soap opera without him thinking I was the freakiest boy alive. Plus, he is so cute. Seriously, he's fucking adorable.

After about 20 minutes of really good conversation I dropped a hint that I smoke. A look came across his face. A beautiful, beatific look which can only be identified by nicotine addicts: Smoker's Relief. He smokes, I smoke, everybody's happy. From then on, it was bliss. We agreed to meet up again the next night and he gave me a hug when we said goodbye. Already, the most action I'd ever had on a date.

I had to leave early to see the midnight show of Two Towers. I had waited an entire year, looking forward to this movie above all else and now I so did not want to go. When I got there, I could barely concentrate on the movie. And it's a damn good movie. I had never had this feeling before, this feeling of attraction and giddiness and hope. There was so much hope.

The next day we exchanged some flirtatious e-mail which culminated in him telling me he thought I was dreamy. No one has ever called me dreamy before. And just so there's no confusion, I thought he was pretty damn dreamy himself. We met up the next night, wandered around shops and ended up kissing in front of Pier One Imports. Because we're just that gay.

I'll stop with the play by play, not so much because it may bore the reader as much as recounting it may cause me to burst into a showtune. I think I'll be writing about this a lot in the future, though. My life has changed so drastically in such a short time. I'm part of a we now and I've never been that before. I can never again crack wise about never having been really loved. To say nothing of that whole technical virgin thing. In some ways, I am a different person, even after a relatively short amount of time. The Mark I was, the lonely, snarky, bitter, cheerfully depressed gay guy, is gone. He's dead and he's not coming back. Yeah, I can still snark and I'm still bitter about some things, but even if Scott breaks my heart, I've known love. I'm changed. And that's kind of scary.

I worry if I can still be funny. And, if this entry is any indication, that's not unfounded. So much of my humor came from my loneliness, my single-ness and now I'm a couple. Basically, I'm happy and that's a new feeling for me.

Now, don't get me wrong, I like this happiness thing. I like it a lot. I like him. I like the way he makes me feel and I like the way I can make him feel. In fact, that's my favorite part. But it's new and I'm unsure of myself. But hey, that means my angst is still alive and well. I do love my angst.

So, Boyfriend Search 2002 is officially over. It was down to the wire, but it finished stronger than I ever imagined. Thanks to everyone who helped, especially Pez. Your CD is on its way. And Scott, just so it's very clear. I love you. A lot.