My one true Love

Monday, May 16, 2005

I have been putting up too many serious posts lately. I guess I have a lot of anger or something in me. So I thought I would take a shot at something a little different.

HUSBANDS.

Well, simply put, I adore mine. He is the light of my life. We have been married for what seems like an eternity on some days and what seems like only moments on others. I don't know that people believe in love at first sight or that they will one day meet their prince charming but I most certainly do.

Sure, he has those annoying traits once in awhile that most men do, laziness, thoughtlessness, forgetfulness, tune me out times but then again I have mine too. The ones that most women do, pms, whining, nagging, break downs, depression. But if every time I faulted him for these little indiscretions our marriage would be one rocky road.

I have read articles about little quirky things that cause fights in some marriages, ie., putting the toilet paper on backwards is a big one. What is backwards anyway? Or squeezing the toothpaste from the middle. Who cares? How picky can one get. If I yelled at him every time he left his 'shavings' in the bathroom sink, well, I would not have a voice left, it washes out. If he yelled at me for leaving the water running while I wiped down the counters, well, he would be voiceless as well.

How 'bout stealing the remote all the time? I do have to speak up on that one. I get tired of watching all these 'man' shows and let him know but then of course he gets on his high horse about 'Lifetime' and picks on me for that one.

Sometimes I tend to think that our marriage is different from many others. Maybe it's because we don't know many people who have a good solid marriage. Patrick and I just love to pick on eachother. We love to love eachother. We love being around eachother. We love our children. We love our life together.

Sure, we have our battles just like most marriages. I do believe that fighting is a healthy thingonce in awhile. Just not daily. A lot of dirty laundry gets aired. Feelings mostly. You know, after awhile of doting on each other so much, it gets stale. Arguing seems to make it all fresh again.

Him and I met in 10th grade health class. The first time I saw him, well, lets just say that I had to pick my jawup off the floor. It was his first day in public school. He had come from a Catholic school. I saw him sitting across the classroom. I made a double-take because I wasn't sure who he was. The moment I saw his eyes, I fell madly in love. My mind said, and this is no lie, that he was the one for me, the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

We had a science fair that day. I was behind him walking out of the classroom to the gymnasium but lost sight of him. Well, once we got into the gym I couldn't find him anywhere. I still remember the panic I was feeling thinking that I had just imagined it. He was in a Levi's jean jacket, Levi's Jeans, and hightops with red laces but for the life of me, I just couldn't find him.
For the rest of the day, I was in search of this guy whom I had never seen and thought that I would never see again. I didn't have much for self-esteem back then so I thought I wouldn't have a chance anyway.

The next day, there he was in my health class again. We just happened to be talking about the ole sex topic, contraception, pregnancy, etc. We had this little old man for a teacher who was about 5 feet tall. Cute little guy in his early 50's maybe. He had to display the rainbow condoms and while doing so, blushed a deeper red than the reddest apple.

During all of this teaching though, my thoughts were on this guy across the room. I sat there with my head on my hand just staring at him. We still hadn't even said as much as 'boo' to eachother after a week of making eyes at each other. His favorite part of this segment of our life is how when he would feel my eyes on him, he would look over at me and I would ever so slyly roll my face towards the teacher.

This whole game went on for a couple of weeks. Then it was homecoming week. The week of all sorts of dress-up, fun and stuff.

Ribbon days were always the best part of those weeks. One day the guys wore ribbons. If they spoke to any girl, they had to relinquish that ribbon to that particular girl. But girls ribbon day happened first. I remember because the next day, Patrick lost his ribbon to another girl who was hanging all over him all the time.

Anyway, for the Homecoming dance I was spoken for...his name was Mike. We had agreed to go as friends. On girls ribbon day, I was silent as a mouse. I was standing in the hallway with my group of friends, Mike included, and Patrick walked up. He looked me square in the eye and asked me to go to the homecoming dance with him. Thinking he was simply trying to scam my ribbon, but my heart racing a mile a minute because I so badly wanted to say yes, I looked at him, smiled and shook my head NO! I could not believe that I couldn't explain myself, I was so hell bent on keeping that ribbon that I just left him hanging.

His face just dropped, the smile gone in an instant. He stood there just looking shocked, then Mike asked me a question and I replied vocally to him. Him and I had an agreement that he wouldn't take my ribbon. So I talked to only him. I still to this day hear about that day. After that moment, I just felt like I had let this really gorgeous guy walk out of my life without ever saying a word to him. I was a wreck the rest of the day! Kicking myself every step I took.
So, the last hour of the day, I wrote Pat a note telling him to call me at the place I was babysitting. The bell rang and I ran to my locker. His was just down the hall from me. As soon as I saw him, I ran to his locker, threw the note at him and ran back to my locker. I watched him while I was opening my locker and taking things out. He was squatting down reading the note and he looked over his shoulder at me and smiled. I left the building that day still wearing my ribbon.

Once I got to the neighbors to babysit, I just couldn't wait for 3:30 to get there. The clock was ticking so slowly! Finally, at 3:30 sharp, the phone rang. It was him. Immediately I explained that I wanted to go to the dance with him but I had already told Mike I would go as friends. Pat was disappointed but we continued to talk.

At one point he had said something but for the life of me, I cannot remember what it was. I replied with, 'you're weird' and he said, 'I'm not weird' and I said, 'but I like weird people' and his reply was, 'okay, I'm weird'. The rest is history.

Homecoming week was the week before Valentines day. The dance was a complete flop. This Mike guy, well, he wound up mad at me because he wanted more from me than I wanted to give. I was pretty naive back then, still am to a point, but I went strictly as friends. I left the gymnasium to call Pat and him and I talked for awhile. I pretty much left Mike to his own sulking. He took me home early and I called Pat immediately. We talked on the phone for a long time and continued to call eachother for a few days and spent time together in school.

On February 13, 1985 he asked me to be his girlfriend. I, in true fashion, said 'No! 13 is an unlucky number and Valentines day is just one day away so ask me tomorrow.' So on February 14th 1985 is when the rest of my life began. And what a great journey it has been.
Having had the opportunity to share so much of my life with my husband has been such a blessing through all those hard times. He is truly my best friend and I just don't know what I would do without him here to keep me in line.

Love is a powerful thing. I wish for everyone to have a soul mate. I have mine and I wouldn't trade him even for the richest man in the world. I am rich in love and nothing can beat that!