I hated him from the first minute I met him. It was clear that the feeling was mutual. He would burst into my house, as I opened the door without a word.
What a jerk.
I was 14 years-old. He was 18.
I was the tagalong younger sister of the group. He was the friend of my stepsister’s boyfriend. I had a metal mouth, permed hair and thick glasses. He had long permed hair, muscle tee, and baggy acid washed jeans. Neither of us could have imagined that 30 years later from that time, we would be celebrating our 25thwedding anniversary.
Two years after my stepsister had broken up with her boyfriend, I was a passenger in my friend’s current boyfriend’s truck. Carrie, my friend, and I were on Spring Break. We had just come from seeing a movie. John started to swerve in the lane. There was a brown station wagon doing the same thing in front of us. Its driver gestured out the window for us to pull over.
We pulled up to the Pizza Hut and the station wagon pulled up a few spots ahead. John said it is a buddy from school. He and Carrie got out to greet his buddy. I waited in the truck.
After a few minutes I heard, “Bubbles!”
It was from the direction of the group. Bubbles was my nickname amongst friends, not random strangers!
“What?” I yelled back.
“Get over here.”
I untucked my legs from the truck and sauntered over.
John, Carrie and two guys were huddled on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. One guy in a leather jacket had his back to me. He turned around. Our eyes met. It was the jerk. The rest of the world had gone on mute.
Only, he was now a cute jerk?
The group went back to Carrie’s house. The group shot the breeze. I slipped to the bathroom to try to gather my thoughts. As I emerged, he was in the hallway to the living room.
I was magnetized to his leather jacket. We made small chat.
When he drove me home that night, he asked me out.
We dated. We broke up several times. And yet, when we were broken up, we still hung out together.
He proposed to me as I was finishing Grade 11. Two years later, we planned to get married in the Spring after we moved in together. One month after I turned legal age in the fall of 1992, we said ‘I do.’ We didn’t want to wait.
We found a small church in our hometown. My stepmom, who was a seamstress, made my dress and my maid-of-honor’s. We had the reception of 30 closest family and friends at my childhood home. Family brought dishes for the reception buffet. The entire wedding cost just under $1500. In retrospect, I would change a few, minor things. I was just glad we got it done.
Our friendship built the foundation for our relationship. We have nothing in common. Yet, we click, we fight and love spending time together.
After 13 years of marriage, we became parents and 2 years after that we welcomed a second baby. We discovered new things about each other. Our relationship went to another level.
Over the almost 28 years of being together, his smile or just that certain look can stir up the butterflies like that time our eyes locked and the world went on mute.
I can’t wait for the next 25 years with my best friend and husband.