>Today marks the tenth anniversary of the date that Tony and I met in person. We had “met” online about three or so weeks earlier, and had been chatting over AOL Instant Messenger and the phone, but this was the date that we met in person. I had driven two hours to meet him and his family in nearby Rhode Island while they were in New England for his older brother, Bobby’s, college graduation. If they hadn’t been in town at that time, I probably wouldn’t have met Tony until we’d both returned to college in late August. If at all.
I’ve always kept a mental note of this date in the back of my mind, though I don’t normally bring it up. I make a big deal of our wedding anniversary, of course, but this one, along with the anniversary of the date Tony proposed, aren’t nearly as big.
Until, of course, we hit the ten year mark. That’s pretty significant, right? I mean, I’m not quite thirty yet, so for me this means that Tony and I have been together for more than a third of my life. Last night we were lying in bed, and I asked Tony what the date was.
“Ummm, the 18th,” he answered.
“Wow, do you know what that means?” I asked, leading him in the thought direction I wanted him to take.
“Yup,” he replied. “I commissioned eight years ago today. Which means pay raise!” He smiled.
“That’s true,” I said. “So what does that make tomorrow?”
“The 19th, which is the day I graduated.”
“Mmmm hmmm. Anything else significant happen on that date?” I asked, getting frustrated.
He paused for a few minutes, thinking. I waited very impatiently. I think I may have even issued a threat of withholding affection for a significant period of time, though I can’t be sure about that. I do remember saying, in true Friends-fashion, “Get there faster!”
Eventually he got there. “We met ten years ago. Right? Is that a big deal?”
I guess not. I would like to say that after ten years of knowing me, placating me, bending over backwards to treat me like a princess (treatment which, however, faded quickly once Bear was born and took over that particular role) he’d know that my leading him to this fact was a sign of its importance to me. It wasn’t, and that’s okay. He’s not usually without sentiment; his Valentine’s letter to me is proof of that. I mean, he may not exhibit romance the way I’m looking for all the time, but the affection is there. And if having known me for ten years isn’t a big deal to him, maybe it’s just because he’s looking at the big picture. The one in which we’ll be married for decades upons decades, and ten years will seem like a drop in the bucket.
Yeah, that’s it.
Happy 10 years, honey!
PS – I have pictures of Tony and I from those first few days that we met. Only one of which is here, in the one scrapbook that I brought here with us. The rest are all in storage back in Colorado. (Ask me again why I decided not to bring them.) Anyway, I was going to scan and edit the picture so you could appreciate how far we’ve come in these past ten years, but it seems that we’ve run out of ink in our printer. Which apparently means that I’m not allowed to scan a picture that I have no intention of printing right now anyway. What a bully!
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