In celebration of Valentine’s Day and my 10 year wedding anniversary, I am sharing a series of posts that I wrote several years ago chronicling our love story.
To read from the beginning: Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Pink and blue scribbles filled the pages of my day planner. I’d gone from avoiding everyone to filling all of my time with extracurricular activities in an attempt to mask the pain of my heartbreak. I needed something, anything to distract me. That’s when I started writing. I stumbled across a blog written by Ali Edwards and thought that starting a blog would be a fun project.
So basically, getting dumped in college jumpstarted my entire career and led me to find my husband. I seriously did NOT see that coming.
Some girlfriends and I were sitting at a coffee shop when I made a grand announcement, because I used to be a little bit dramatic.
(Thank goodness I grew out of that, am I right?)
“I think it’s time for me to have a crush,” I told them, “and I think I’ve decided to have that crush on T.”
T, we all agreed, was a good choice. He was nice and funny and really good at the keyboard. “I’ll throw a party,” I decided, “and invite him. Then y’all can tell me if he is actually flirting with me or if he’s just a really nice guy.”
“Speaking of boys, I have a boy problem of my own,” Cherany informed us. We listened intently as she outlined the issues she was having with an ex-boyfriend and asked her what she was going to do. “Well, I was thinking about asking J if he would talk to him for me,” she answered.
I choked on my coffee. “J? You still talk to J?” I sputtered.
She eyed me curiously. “Of course I still talk to J. Hey, why don’t I invite him to your party?”
I hesitated and then we all took turns filling Cherany in on the saga that had been my relationship with J in the past. “That’s it. You’re supposed to marry him. I’m totally inviting him now” she informed me. The next day she called me with the news. “He’s coming,” she announced.
Tiffani asked me if I could handle this, the idea of having him in my life again. “It’s not ‘in my life,'”I replied. “It’s just a party.”
That is why I spent an entire week preparing for it, complete with freshly highlighted hair and a new outfit. I brushed on a second coat of mascara. Because of T, I told myself. I wanted to impress T. That’s why I had someone else do all the cooking.
I was handing T a cream soda when the doorbell rang. J stood on the doorstep and rocked back and forth with his hands in his pockets. “So. Um. Hi,” he said softly. I invited him in as we made small talk, surprised at myself for what I was feeling.
Nothing. I didn’t feel anything. I was baffled and relieved all at the same time. I’d never been around J without having feelings for him. This could work. We could be friends. I wasn’t going to complicate us anymore.
“Do you want to go to church with me tomorrow?” I asked J as I partnered with T to play another round of Scene-It. “Yes,” he answered, watching as I not-so-casually let my hand brush against the back of T’s while reaching for the remote. T didn’t move his hand away and I threw a meaningful glance at the girls.
Unbeknownst to me, J had come to the party because he wanted to tell me something…
{The night of the party, circa 2005. Me and J, bottom left.}
I was glad that J had forgotten his phone. He’d have to come back over to get it, which meant he would definitely show up to go to church with me the next day. I hadn’t been able to talk to him much at the party and I wanted to catch up and hear what was going on in his life.
I chattered incessantly as we drove north. It was a long drive and I was excited for him to meet the youth group I was leading. I loved those kids, I told him. I was glad that they let me stay with them after the youth pastor (who also happened to be my ex) left. I don’t think I could have handled losing them too, I confided.
“So…I’d been thinking about you. Anthony told me that he saw you on campus and, well, he said you looked terrible. No offense. I wanted to check on you but I didn’t know where you were or anything,” he told me.
We spent the rest of the day together. And the day after that. And the day after that. He’d meet me after work and we’d hike the mountain and I would marvel at how easy the friendship was when I wasn’t heartbroken over him.
“So, do you kind of like T?” he asked me, adding another Scrabble tile to the board. I sighed. I wanted to like T. “Kind of,” I answered.
The next day he showed up at my house carrying a computer. “Your computer is terrible,” he told me. I protested. “You can’t just go around giving people computers, J,” I said.
“I built it a few years ago. It’s not a big deal,” he replied, “But it’s better than this computer that you have from…how old is thing anyway?”
It was from 1995 actually, on account of how I was very frugal in my college days and okay, sure it barely ran but that was not the point.
Later my dad raised his eyebrows meaningfully at me. “I think he likes you,” he told me. He was wrong, I informed him haughtily. We were just friends. He leveled a look at me. “That boy just randomly brought you a computer. He likes you. Besides, I’ve always thought you should date J.”
The next day he called as I was leaving work. “That movie you want to see comes out Friday night. Let’s go” he said.
I eyed the phone suspiciously. “Madagascar? You’ll go with me to see Madagascar?” I asked him incredulously.
I didn’t think it was a date until he apologized for being late. It had taken him longer to get home from the golf course than he had thought. I hadn’t known he was golfing that day. I asked him if he won. “I don’t know,” he answered, “I left the guys halfway through to come pick you up.”
I was quiet on the ride to the theater. He left his golf game early so that he could take me to the movies. And not just any movie. A silly animated children’s movie that I only wanted to see because I have an unexplainable, unparalleled love of Ben Stiller.
Maybe he thought this was a date. Maybe I should ask him. Or maybe I should not ask him and save myself incredible humiliation. Yes. Much better plan.
We walked to the ticket window. He wouldn’t let me buy my ticket. We walked through the velvet ropes at the entrance. He touched the small of my back as he guided me through the crowd.
His hand rested on the shared armrest, touching mine ever so slightly. I held my breath for most of the movie. He didn’t try to hold my hand.
Not a date, I decided as we headed back to my house.
{to be continued}
