Two years



Two years ago I had just declared that I was giving up. I was 32 and it had been quite some time since I had been in anything close to a functional relationship. Dysfunctional, yes. Functional, not so much. To be fair, I had never anticipated getting married. Sure I had thought it would be nice to find someone who loved me and maybe settle down eventually but marriage? Nah. Because really, who would want to marry me. Or even date me for longer than 6 months?

As I was convincing myself that it was o.k. to spend the rest of my life alone and that I had places to go and things to do on a list a mile long, I agreed to a date. We had gotten to know each other through our mutual friend Matt. Matt was the band director I worked with and he was a friend that had been brought in to help with the season. Other than going out for beers every now and then during band season, we weren't exactly close. Just acquaintances. Fun to hang out with but not much more than that. Then band season ended and we saw each other on and off, here and there as the group got together for drinks. For me at least, I felt a friendship growing.

Then the night at Cobblestones happened.

To this day we argue who started it first. I readily admit I was a little tipsy and may have been more flirtatious than usual. He says I started it when I started playing with his hand at the table. I say he started it when he kissed me...kissed ME! at the end of the night. Right in front of everyone. I was stunned and well, pretty much speechless. You know how people talk about things going silent, fireworks and all that? Yeah, that's what happened, right there in the middle of a noisy bar. My friend Sarah looked at me and said "What was THAT about?" All I could say was, "I don't quite know, but I liked it."

We talked online for a few weeks after that and decided to try a date. It was nothing fancy, nothing spectacular but it was wonderful. He made dinner and we sat on the couch, watching "Stripes" and getting to know each other. There may have been some making out...o.k., there was a lot of making out.

And now here we are, two years later, living together for six months now. As with any relationship, it hasn't always been easy but I can say that the best decision I ever made was to go on that date. I'm lucky enough to go to bed every night and wake up every morning with my best friend and I know that it will be that way for many more years to come.

Happy anniversary Will, I love you.