Sunday, September 13, 2009
My "Our" Story
I’ve been inspired lately. Been trying to read *catch up on reading* other blogs. A popular theme? The significant other “story.” So, I’m sharing mine.
Lemme tell you. Prepare to be swept off your feet.
Well, more like prepare to be drunk under the table.
I had just decided to celebrate my new found freedom. Having recently left my husband and then promptly moving into a bad dating situation, I finally realized that it was time to focus on ME. And my new family, which consisted of me, the thinker and mama’s boy. They were only 5 and 3, and the divorce was still settling in the minds *albeit young minds* of my boys. Not only had I kicked their father out, but because I could no longer afford the only home they had known or could remember, I also displaced them and moved them to a new school and daycare. It was in the best interest of our family, both monetarily and emotionally. It meant that I could keep them with me at home and at work. They went to MY school.
Well, the day I finally realized that I needed to focus on me, I felt it was a day to celebrate. A girlfriend of mine INSISTED we go out. She had heard of a place to head out to, and would have her daughter stay overnight with my boys. This would be my Independence Day. A day to celebrate. And it was on her.
We went to Bocce’s. Normally a restaurant/sport’s bar, on this Friday night it became a mini-club. It featured the sounds of Boolumaster, a fairly well-known Chicago area DJ.
We entered the bar. I was apprehensive, to say the least. Newly single, after being married and dating the same man for eight years, I was rusty at being chill and playing the “game.” And come on, I wasn’t looking for the next Mr. Mommytsunami. I wasn’t looking for anything but some fun. My own personal Independence Day had arrived!
I let friend take the lead. She scoped. She found a spot at the bar near some boys that she felt would buy us some drinks. And she was right. One the their gang started chatting with me. I’ll call him Chatty McChatterson. He was wearing a pink polo and was about 17 feet tall. His name was the same as one of my sons. That was an awkward reminder of my sons at home. He was a geek. But, hey, I was there to have fun. So, I let him buy me my FIRST glass of wine (on an empty stomach…). Do you see where this is going?
Well, girlfriend got all wrapped up in picking up a guy. I got all cornered by Mr. McChatterson, and somewhere around my 3rd glass of wine, Boolu started mixing and the dance floor became packed. Chatty McChatterson brought me out to the dance floor. Of course, FOUR glasses of wine on an empty stomach did not give me the best dancer’s balance. But, I made it most of the night. By the time we were leaving, most everyone was leaving. The room started to spin and one of my friend’s new friends offered to stay with me *Read: Hold me up* while she went and got the car. While that occurred, one of HIS friends (E) walked up to him. This guy had gone to high school with him and had not been hanging with him the whole night. He had spoke with him earlier that night, and was approaching him to exchange numbers to get a drink when…WHOA and BEHOLD, his buddy was with that girl he had noticed when she walked in the door. But, she was drunk.
Friend pulled up with the car. Her guy friend went to meet her and left me with E. I was losing my balance, so I threw my arms around him. We chatted, but I was drunk. Scummy drunk. A very sweet E attempted to exchange numbers with me. But, my friend intercepted and invited the boys to a BBQ at my new home. She had E’s buddy’s number. We’d get in touch.
That was Friday night. At least, what I remember of it.
See, I told you you’d be swept off your feet…
Saturday morning, with no sign of hangover (it was ONLY wine) I awoke to the startling realization that I was missing something. I spoke with my friend. What was I missing? And then I remember…did I get that guy’s number? No. But she had his friend’s number. So, I demanded possession of her phone. She tossed it to me. Sitting on my couch, I remember texting him…Please give Angel’s phone number to E. Thanks. That was Saturday early afternoon.
Plans were made for Saturday night. But I heard NOTHING from him.
The BBQ was scheduled for Sunday evening.
Sunday. My phone rang around four pm. I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. I didn’t know the number…Could it be him? He left a voice message. Yup, it was him. I’ll call him back after my shower…
And then I did my hair. And then I called him. He answered. Yes, I knew who he was. Yes, I still wanted him to come to the BBQ. No, it didn’t matter if he came alone…It didn’t matter if he was the only guest. I only wanted the chance to spend time with him.
Yes. In fact, I did say that. I know, I’m a huge cheeseball.
And he got there, to that party. A friend let him in the house. I was in the kitchen. I’ll never forget that moment. The moment I felt my heart jump out of my chest and sober me knew. Knew I was looking into the eyes of my soulmate. My true love. The man I never thought I’d ever meet, but always dreamed existed. E.
And he wasn’t my high school sweetheart.
And we didn’t have a beautiful long courtship.
I wouldn’t describe our dating as ideal.
Within one and 1/2 months, we were pregnant.
And we bought a house on September 15th (not even four months after we met) and delivered our twins on February 8th (not even nine months after we met…they were TWO MONTHS early…lil turds made us look bad…lol).
And we have struggled. LORD, HAVE WE STRUGGLED. But we are still here. And together. And in love. Even though he hates that I just asked him if he’s in love with me. He says I should know the answer to that question. And I do.