Thursday, February 9, 2012


                I don’t know about you but I…took the long way around when it comes to love. Where I come from it’s a land of high school sweethearts and quick weddings right out of high school.  You can ask anyone who knew me from my prior life, that this girl has never quite fit that mold.  And that’s not to say I didn’t try.  I have a high school yearbook with statements like “invite me to your wedding.”  Wait. What?

                I went away to college.  Learned who I was, separate and independent of everyone and everything.  Then I graduated, and stated working and “dating” Mr. Big himself.  No seriously, HBO people came to Western NY, creeped in his window and went back and scripted that Sex and the City character.  I walked away from that a bruised spirit with a jaded impression of love and perhaps even life.

                I was a young, 23 year old, new job, new apartment, looking to make sense of where she’s at. And in one of those seemingly, serendipitous moments that can have no explanation other than providence, I meet Him.   He’d dodged this application training for over a year, I’d just started the new job and needed to learn the tools.  All the people I knew got there before me, and no one saved me a seat.  I grabbed the first empty, next to some guy.  He’d seen my name, I’d heard his cursed in staff meetings as notoriously unresponsive.  And in a moment of innocence, perhaps with intention to flirt I clicked on   With an instantaneous whisper from the seat next to me confirming I was checking in on the New York Yankees, I knew I had his attention. 

Answering a question moments later on the internal Instant Message system, he commented how he’d never used it.  Parting ways after the training session he mentioned he was too busy being awesome (editor’s note: he didn’t say that, but we all know that was what he meant.) to come to the follow up session the next day.  Ok then, see ya never.  I get back to my desk and immediately get an Instant Message from the Yankee’s fan, who had never used the IM before(?), half asking me out for drinks.  The rest, as they say, is history.

Fast forward two and a half years.  As I sat in our kitchen this week, sewing a hole in his shirt, after cooking him dinner, cleaning up, and following up on his request for me to switch over his laundry, I had one of those cartoon-esque moments.  My world came to a screeching halt.  What. The. Crap? and. How. Did. I. Get. Here?!  I’m staring at everything I never knew I wanted.  I’m cooking(?)  I’m resentfully emptying the dishwasher.  I’m volunteering to replace the seam in a shirt so he doesn’t look like a homeless person in real life. I’m planning meals, grocery shopping and accommodating his need to eat pop-tarts for breakfast at 33 years old.  We’re arguing about future pets.  We’re laughing about our day.  I sit here in a moment of realization. 

He hates that I wait two weeks, till I run out of undies to do my laundry.  I hate that he panics when there are only four towels left in the drawer.  He hates that I wait upwards of two (on a good trend) months to put said freshly cleaned laundry in its proper place.  I hate that he won’t hang the things I buy on the walls for months and months on end.

            I've grown up since 23.  We’ve grown up since I was 23.  We’ve experienced loss. And if nothing grows you more as a team, it’s a recognition of your own morality.  We’ve experienced joy.  New successes, friends, family, weddings, a niece that we could not love more – who is so fun to Skype with.  And if nothing brings you a little perspective it’s a long weekend away from each other to take a minute to remember what it is that you love.  

I learned, recently, thankfulness is the root of all joy.  I’ve done my best to implement in my daily life, right down to coming home to him with a smile, because well, I’m so very grateful for him.  He makes me laugh.  He drives me crazy.  We don’t often agree, but we don’t often argue.  Opposites attract after all, and we’re living proof. 

I do wish Christmas, his birthday, and Valentine’s Day were not so close together.  It really leaves me scrambling come V-day.  I mean who wants a front-loaded gift giving sitch? Seriously, February 14th is like my last gift giving obligation until next Christmas.  But I am thankful for him.  And don’t worry he usually ends up with like an Easter gift or a Labor day present – because I love giving presents.  Also, just because I love him.

Source: via Penny on Pinterest

1 comment:

  1. Great post! Kind of sounds like me and David....he's more orderly than I am.:) and what is up with them not hanging stuff up for us? He recently bought me this "as seen on tv" tool so I can hang up pictures myself on the wall. It works great!