One Year Ago...

One year ago, I had just come home from my first weekend with The Mr. Our first date had been that Wednesday, May 31, 2012. We saw each other again that Friday, then on Saturday morning we ran off to Austin for a weekend. This is what I wrote when I got home that Sunday evening: 

I met a man. Not a boy or a guy, but a MAN. OkCupid got it right this time, but what a mean trick! He is moving to the East Coast at the end of summer ...To say we are cut of the same cloth is an understatement. 

Right now I’m trying to weed through the Fuck Struck hormones and the sensation that he is the missing other half. Someone in a place to fall hopelessly in love might describe him as my soul mate. SCARY! And it’s not that I’m not ready and willing to get into a relationship, it’s the grown-up in me that knows the reality of things. The grown-up in me that says even if he is the man of my dreams, the ooey-gooey hormones won’t wear off in time to make a rational choice to do something like; I don’t know, pack up my life and move to the East Coast. 

I can’t remember the last time I felt like this. It really is a chemical addiction akin to being high on drugs. When I’m with him I don’t get hungry or tired. His touch makes me more relaxed and content than I have been in ages. He said to me that he can’t stop kissing me when we’re together. This morning, lying in bed in the hotel in Austin he reached for me and said he got a chill that felt like a push towards me that he couldn’t resist. 

... And I won’t get started on the intimacy topic. It’s so intense on all levels. 

This man is masculinity personified in my eyes. 

It’s really hard to not think about the possibility of ‘Happily Ever After’ when the man in my bed looks so much like Prince Charming.    

      

That August I packed up my life and moved here with him. We were married in January, and embarked on another layer of the journey to ourselves in February. 

Despite all the ‘real life’ we have run into, as is inevitable in ‘grown up land’ he is absolutely my Prince Charming. The ooey-gooey stuff has never stopped, and I don’t think it ever will. All the little things he does, reminds me how spoiled I am. He preps my coffee every night, leaving a mug beside the coffee pot for me. He is known to grab the massage pillow unprompted and order me to lie down to be pampered. He takes care of most all of the regular errands between work and home, then plays dishwasher Tetris for sport. He cooks dinner while I work and brings a plate to my desk. The teenager teases us for never being more than 3 feet apart at any given time, and we both love it. He opens the car door for me, kissing me before I sit down, and then reaches for my hand while he’s driving. We regularly stay up into the wee hours of the morning just talking and holding each other, unpacking all of our emotional baggage and arranging a shared closet. I could go on and on about all the ways he takes care of me physically and emotionally… 

A year ago, I was falling and it was scary. When I decided to pack up and move with him I used one of my more common phrases: I am either being really brave, or really stupid!

 

On May 31, the anniversary of our first date, The Mr. bought me roses and a card. He brought me out of our room on a break from work and kissed me and said, “I know that each color of roses signifies something different. I picked the rainbow bunch because you mean everything to me.”