Friday, May 22, 2009
Nine years ago, Sam and I started dating. It was Memorial day weekend of 2000. And we went on our first official date after many emails and a few phone calls.
It was an amazing weekend.
Sam and I met in March at a church ski trip in Lake Tahoe. I remember hugging him goodbye after the weekend and distinctly remember thinking to myself, "We'll meet again."
But March turned into April. I had heard from a friend that he was just getting over his ex-girlfriend. I decided to not pursue it for a little while.
Then I asked him out. It was the first (and last!) guy I asked out.
And he didn't write back. Nothing.
I didn't have his phone number so I had to email him. Nothing happened.
So I shrugged it off.
Then, a few days later, he wrote saying that of course he remembered me, that his parents had been in town and that he was sad that he didn't get my email until after the proposed date. Then we started to email all of the time. And chat. I thought he had my phone number. He still argues that he doesn't. I finally gave him my number (again) and we made plans.
That first weekend, on our first date, we walked 14 miles. A hike. My feet were killing me. I had HUGE blisters. I was sunburned. But we just kept hiking and talking. Always talking. The 14 mile trek then turned into dinner at a Thai food restaurant.
Then he came over to a BBQ at my house. Then we found some excuse to see each other the third day of the weekend too. For me, there was no turning back.
To this day, my "ideal" date with my husband would involve hiking and Thai food. Oh, and white wine. Especially now. Bring on the white wine. :)
Nine years has brought us dating, marriage, grad school times two, a move to Wisconsin, a move to PA, a daughter and a son. It has brought us tears and fights. Poor decisions and good ones.
I'm pleased to say that we are still walking. And still talking.