My five year wedding anniversary is tomorrow, March 22nd. Looking back, I’m amazed that we’ve been married for five years, and known each other for almost seven. Although, our running joke with each other is, “Is that all? It felt like muuuuch longer!” LOL. Yes, we do have a touch of warped humor in our household.
As we were heading off to bed last night, I started thinking about how different my life was before Jon was in it.
When we met, I was living in a two bedroom townhouse with my son, still working full time in Corporate America, and had dated my share of total and complete losers.
Let’s see, there was the business card boy, the immature ex-boyfriend and the guy who knocked up his lesbian ex-wife while we were dating just to name the top three contenders for the loser crown. After my frustration died down from contestant number three—who is probably the ultimate crown winner here—I remembered this good looking, sweet, funny, semi-shy guy I had met at a local bar during karaoke. He liked to sing Elvis songs, and we could talk for hours about anything and everything.
I called him up and asked him out, which sounded something like this:
“Hey, Tina. How’s it going?”
I’ve always loved his deep gravelly voice, so I’m purely appreciative just listening at this point 🙂 “Great. I was actually calling to see if you were busy tonight.”
“Not really. Paul (his roommate) and I are just hanging out.”
“Do you want to go to dinner or something?” (Yes, I usually just kept it this simple when I asked someone out. Not profound, but it got to the point…lol.)
Silence for about four full heartbeats. Then, “You mean on a date?”
Okay, deep breath. It’s not easy for anyone to take the risk and ask someone out, but this isn’t a good sign so far. “Yes, unless you would prefer we just keep it a friendly dinner. Are you interested?”
“No, as a date is good,” he answers quickly enough to salve my ego. “I just wanted to clarify.”
Anyway, once we hung up the phone, he apparently looked at his roommate and said, “This means I need to shave, doesn’t it?” LOL.
He picked me up that night, bearing one of those little roses they sell at Circle K. Yes, a bit corny, but I still have that thing. We went to a local Chili’s restaurant with questionable food and we talked and laughed easily. So far the date was going great! I was sitting across from a really cute guy with deep hazel eyes with gold flecks, a killer smile with just a hint of dimple, dark hair that made you want to run your fingers through it, a great sense of humor and that wonderful deep voice. Things were looking up! Finally, maybe I had gotten off the “dating losers” train and was on the right track. Woo Hoo!
Right after they brought the appetizer, I noticed they were playing Up Where We Belong on the overhead speakers. I remember laughing and saying, “I remember when this song was really popular. It was the theme song for my Senior Prom.”
A short pause while Jon listens, too, and then he smiles, which turns him from cute to totally hot and yummy. “I remember this song! A group of us did a lip syncing act to it for our fifth grade talent show.”
Thankfully, I was struck dumb at this point and it took several seconds for me to even form words as my brain processed all the ramifications of those statements. Once it did, I said, “How old are you?”
As I did quick mental calculations to figure out our nine year age difference, my first reaction was, “Hell, no! What am I even thinking? A thirty-two-year-old divorced woman with a kid dating a twenty-three year old guy? ACK!” Of course, due to several years of muddling through social situations while my mind is screaming such things, I was able to continue holding a conversation, although I’m sure he didn’t miss my shock.
But over the course of the next hour, my reservations lessened and then disappeared. I was reminded of the line from The American President where Annette Bening is talking to her sister about why she can’t date Michael Douglas, who is the President of the United States, and she says, “Yeah… I gotta nip this in the bud. This has catastrophe written all over it.” To which her sister replies, “In what language? Sydney, the man is the leader of the free world. He’s brilliant, funny, handsome. He’s an above-average dancer. Isn’t it possible our standards are just a tad high?”
I knew exactly what they meant! After all, here was a very attractive man I could talk to for hours, we could make each other laugh, he didn’t have four ex wives with twenty kids, and no lesbian ex-wife lurking in the wings like the last one, he didn’t do drugs and only drank socially. He had a job, seemed fairly responsible, was articulate and seemed to enjoy my company. So, somewhere in that hour, I just went with it, and now, nearly seven years later, I’m very glad I did!
Like every couple, we’ve had some doozey fights which we still laugh about today, and some ups and downs, but we have a good solid relationship and we really do complement each other well. He was even the one who encouraged me to take my dream of writing out of the closet and finally go do it. Even more than that, he and my son get along very well, and much to my chagrin sometimes—they even have very similar senses of humor. ACK!
One of these days, I might even get an actual marriage proposal. In fact, I’m not sure how I ended up at my fifth wedding anniversary without one, but I did. But…that’s an entirely different blog. 🙂