I’ve posted this before but Todd asked me to repost it as people are asking him about the time we first met in person. So, here it is.
It’s a weird kind of nervousness, meeting someone for the first time when you’re already in love with them. You have an intense relationship because distance calls for intenseness. You can’t hold each other’s hands or wrap your legs around them at night. Your time together is limited. You have to cram every emotion and feeling into those phone calls and chats and it’s so hard to convey everything you feel that you end up feeling everything all the time. So when you’re finally going to be together and actually get to touch each other and look into their eyes and do things together, you wonder if it will be the same. You wonder if it will feel the same. Or if it feels different, will it feel a good kind of different. Better?
So you drive to the airport with this massive ball of fear and anxiousness sitting in the pit of your stomach and all the what ifs run through your mind. What if we don’t click in person? What if it all goes to hell? Should I have worn my hair a different way? Did I put on enough deodorant? Do these pants make me look fat?
And then you get to the airport and you pace and pace and check the flight board and when it says the plane has landed you nearly run into the bathroom to puke. What do I do? You have imagined this scenario in your head a million times, the two of you meeting, waving shyly as you recognize each other from the million pictures you sent and then a slow embrace, maybe playing out like some awful romantic movie starring someone who was a runner up on American Idol. Will it be awkward? What if he doesn’t recognize you because you look nothing like those photos and he’ll say “this isn’t what I flew here for!” and you lose him in the crowd as he makes his way from arrivals to departures. This is your brain on nervousness.
And then there you are. You just find each other. He kisses you as if he has kissed you a thousand times before and it’s all so comfortable and normal you feel as if you’ve always done this. You walk to your car holding hands and he tells you about his flight and you drive home, the anxiety slowly creeping out of your brain.
There are four days filled with hurried activity. Driving around. Dinners out. Meeting your friends and family. A birthday celebration. Lots of time in bed, half watching movies, just enjoying the company of each other. Just being together.
And then the time comes when it has to end and the anxiety creeps up again. Will he come back? Was I good enough? Were we good enough? Does he think we clicked because I think we clicked and oh god what if he doesn’t think we clicked? What if he gets on that plane and never looks back and he changes his email address and his phone number and I’ll never see him again? Anxiety is a bitch. She truly is.
Then he stands at the gate, at the furthest part where you can still go without a boarding pass. He reaches for you and you stand there together. You feel the warmth of his body, you listen to his heart beat as you rest your head against him and you try not to cry, he’s telling you not to cry and he’s promising you he’ll be back but you cry anyhow, a cry of relief because you know. In that instant where neither of you want to part, you know. It worked. It’s working. It’s real. We are good together. To good to not be together.
Then, just as he’s about to leave, he whispers into your ear.
“I’ll be back around.”
You drive home by yourself and you’re ok with that because you’re alone but not alone. You listen to The Cars. You listen to “You Might Think” and you smile.
Three months later, true to his word, he’s back around.
He’s still here.
Six seven years later, he’s still here. Six seven years ago my life didn’t just change, it started.
Sometimes I hear him giggling from the other room. Laughing. Cackling. And I know he’s writing a post.
He cracks himself up, which is a really good thing.
But sometimes? Sometimes I’m afraid to look at what he wrote.
A couple of people left ask box questions as to why we are Raiders fans. Me, I’m just going along for the ride with Todd as I haven’t been loyal to an NFL team in years and I’m looking to get back into it. But I’ll let Todd tell you himself why he’s a Raiders fan:
I grew up in Northern California. During the SF Joe Montana Years. I was a kid when I watched “The Catch” and I heard my parents scream with joy as they beat my team (Cowboys) and I lost 20 bucks on the game. 20 is a lot to a little a little kid and I never forgot that feeling of hatred over the 49ers. Never.
By the time I moved to San Francisco, the Montana years were over.
I could never be a fan of theirs. They were the team. I didn’t need that.
But what I did see was a beat down team from the East Bay led by a bunch of misfits with an asshole owner who wouldn’t take shit from anyone. They had a bad reputation of playing dirty and wearing casts as fake arm “helpers”. They would get the shit beat out of them every game and come back the next week and play the same. John Madden was great. He helped the team. But what impressed me the most was they took the losers, the left outs, the forgotten and made them into greats in the AFL and NFL. And those same people, the losers, the left outs and the forgotten never left.
That is something to think about when it comes to loyalty.
That is the Raider Nation. We might be down but you will not forget us when we leave your stadium.
Seven years ago today I had my first official date with the man who is now my husband. Best seven years of my life.
He nailed it. Thank you for the good vibes.
I said yes.
What's the first thing that attracted you to your love? What's it today?
Cliche as it may sound, his sense of humor.
We met online so I really had no idea what he looked like when we first started talking. All I know is I was going through a very dark time in my life and he managed to make me smile and laugh on a regular basis. I also loved his laid back nature, how he’d bring me down to reasonable levels of sanity when I was panicking about something I had no control over. It was his ability to take me from a panicky situation to reasonable calmness with just a few words that made me feel safe with him. So, his humor and his level headedness.
Today, it’s still very much those things. Also, his intelligence (he is seriously one of the smartest people I ever met), his fierce protectionism of my kids, his laugh, his empathy, the way he listens, his excitement about the little things that make him happy, how easy he is to please, his entire attitude toward life, his pragmatism, the way he grounds me, his hugs, his ability to keep me from panicking about everything, his loyalty, the way he has to put up with all my bullshit and he loves me nonetheless. And really, the most important thing and something I’ve written here before is how he makes me laugh. Even at what feels like the worst of times, he makes me laugh. That’s golden.
I could probably make this three paragraphs more, easily. But I’ll stop here.