Thanks for the nudge.
I always resort to the "love at first sight"-type retelling of this story but it's not entirely true. When we met met, it was at one of my best friend's birthday dinners. I could not keep my eyes off of him which was problematic because he was said best friend whose birthday it was's date. Not anyone's cup of tea.
He was 21. He had a beard, he drank black coffee (I hadn't met a soul who drank their coffee black yet. So chic for my 21 year old self), he smoked (double chic, health hazards and all/I recognize these things are trivial), he was intellectual, he was witty and thoughtful, he was the so, so funny. He did weird, fascinating things. He had a pair of pants altered into slight high-waters like Wes Anderson after watching the documentary at the end of The Royal Tenenbaums Criterion Collection DVD. He ran summer mission trips in downtown L.A. and he would sneak off from the group every time they went to Santa Monica to sit in a book shop and stare at an illustrated cover of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe because he loved the drawing. He wanted to move to Seattle and be a bike messenger after college like Puck from Real World, San Francisco. He was tall and striking and oddly independent. One night we went to a concert with some friends and he said he would take the bus home. It was close to midnight and at least an hour trip back to downtown. I don't think he even knew what lines were still running and I don't think he cared. He would ride subways all over Los Angeles. He would go to record shops and coffee shops alone. I had never lived that way or experienced anyone that had. I'd lived in Los Angeles my whole life and this guy was a pnw exotic import, I am telling you. He owned a pair of these(which I thought was so bizarre). I couldn't get my mind off of him.
And all he can recall from that night was that I was wearing a FULL SWEATSUIT.
(WHICH I WASN'T)
So, we met.
Your name is blind. She's wearing sweats, top to bottom. That's it. No attraction, no interest. Nothing.
Isn't that the bizarre thing about timing? I met my husband that night at the church. I met him. We both encountered the person we would marry and have multiple children with and brush our teeth next to, and it had zero impact on us both. And then, a month or so later I saw him in the restaurant and he was IT. All it took was one other night and I'd probably have married him on the spot. On top of the table at that restaurant. It was like that scene in a movie when all the voices fade to background music and the only laugh you hear is his. That was him and me that night. Palpable and obvious. (Marry me, I want to have your babies, etc)
"Well, I am attracted to you so that makes this what?"
(Famous paiinnnnnful Kirby silence)
Whatever his response was, it wasn't direct. It was something like- yeah, I love hanging out with you and I like you and I'm excited to do it more and we have so much in common, I feel like we've been friends my whole life, etc. But there was no lightbulb moment or proposal like I had planned. And he flew off the next day to visit his family back home in Spokane.
A few days into the trip he called and said he had been thinking too hard about things and that he'd rather not talk until he was back home. He wanted to be all the way there, with his family and his friends, and I got that. But my dominant emotions were - ugh. ugh. ugh.
I was sure I had spoken too soon, and that also meant I had probably spoiled the friendship we had with weirdness and we would probably not recover and be as we were just days before. I felt stupid and pushy and silly assuming that maybe he would have been interested in me, too. You know, all that ugh. I felt it. And he was far away and in his other life now and I wondered how we would reconnect upon his return to L.A. Or if we would at all.
But a few days later he called.
And he asked me if maybe I could pick him up from the airport when he flew back into town a few days later.
(heart eyes emoji!!)
..... part two coming soon.