Eight years and three days ago we had our second first date. Technically, it was our first second date, but we don't really think of it that way, we think of it as our second first date. On our first first date, we really didn't like each other. He thought I was a flake. I thought all he did was talk about his car. Plus, he looked a little...dorky.
That date ended abruptly.
But then I changed jobs, and I emailed all my email contacts that I was changing offices, and surprise! I was going to be working next door to him! We should meet for drinks!
Having nothing else to do on a Monday night, and never one to turn down drinks, I agreed to meet him. As I rode down the escalator to our designated meeting point, I saw this tall, broad-shouldered kinda-hottie there, obviously waiting. Was that him? It didn't match at all with my memories of the car-obsessesed suburban guy. (Discussing it later: he'd gotten new glasses... and a better haircut. Apparently that made all the difference.)
So, eight years and three days ago we had our second first date. That led to our first second date. And so on.
Six years and a day ago, we got married, in the best party I've ever thrown in my life. I felt gorgeous, my friends were all gorgeous, my new husband was absolutely delicious.
Five years and a day ago, I dropped him, our dog, a suitcase, a small box of essentials and our Civic off in Portland after a marathon day-and-a-half drive out from Chicago. We left downtown Chicago at 5:30 on a Friday and for the next twenty-four hours, only stopped to refuel and pee (both us and the dog). We finally fell into a bed in Coeur d'Alene on Saturday night. We woke up, hopped in the car, and met our new apartment in Northeast Portland on our first anniversary. After six hours together, I got on a plane that night to go back to Chicago for two months: wrap up my job, sell the condo, and find a job in Portland.
A day ago, we went out to dinner. The waitress brought our food, and tentatively asked, "Are you guys celebrating anything?" He cocked his head and thought, "Well, she's pregnant, and my book just came out, but..." He smiled. "It's our sixth anniversary." "Congratulations!" she said. She comped our dessert.
Happy anniversary, hon.