Twenty-four years. Over half our lives.
Three children. Three houses, three apartments, two interstate moves, a plethora of cats, many and sundry jobs, two separations, one set of divorce papers, nine cars, too few vacations, too many bad decisions, a lifetime of late night discussion and laughs.
Daily I love yous. Sometimes in anger, confusion, ironic, stark contrast to actions.
Our mutual friends tried to introduce us several times. Things got in the way. Then we met on accident - without the intervention of friends. And ------ nothing. He was chatting up blonds in the kitchen. I went for a motorcycle ride with one of his friends.
Timing. It deserves all those cliches.
On October 1, 1987, The Bodeans played at Jake's in Bloomington, Indiana. Jared wanted to know if I was going. Oh, yeah. I wouldn't miss it this time. I'd missed the band's swing through town the previous spring. One of those times when other plans got in the way.
Save four seats if you get there first. I'm coming with friends, Jared shouted over his shoulder. We were hurrying between classes.
Seats saved. One was for him.
|August 21, 1988|
Shockingly and contrary to what our friends and family surely thought, but were to polite to mention, I only looked pregnant.
I thought his mullet was hot, loved running my fingers through his curls. I still love running my fingers through them, even if they're on his back. Literally.
Happy Anniversary, MathMan. Despite our lightening fast beginning. Despite ourselves.
I love you.