The Tale of One Love

Last week you all heard about my two worst relationships in the confusing and convoluted world of love. So this week after much procrastination and pondering I’ve decided to write about my single best experience of love; my hubby Jordan. Probably one of the most long-enduring people ever, followed closely by my sister and parents.

I met my husband for the first time my sophomore year of college. He was cute so naturally I tried pursuing him. The SPU experience is not very conducive to dating. When I was there the ratio was three women for every one man; nice for the guys, downright crappy for the ladies.

We went out to coffee a few times. He was nice, really nice actually. I’d never gone for nice guys before so it was strange that my interest in him didn’t wane after I found out he was so dang nice. He was a likeable, popular guy and had many, many school activities going on. With him being so busy and me being so timid about calling or emailing our relationship never went beyond friendship; that is until our senior year.

My roommate (and mutual friend) worked at the Seattle Repertory Theatre and offered us some tickets to go see Over the Moon. We both really wanted to see it, so my roomie slyly suggested we go together.

That was the night Jordan fell for me. The conversation was constant and interesting, but it had been that way a few times before. I wasn’t expecting much by way of response. So I was heartily surprised when I received an email, completely unsolicited by the way, to hang out again.

I was excited, but I’ll be honest. I wasn’t expecting much. This was someone I’d been pursuing since my sophomore year. I’d given up on it and resolved to not worry about it, or even think about it. Instead of thinking about what Jordan may be thinking I focused on researching the Peace Corps, or grad school in Ireland. I wasn’t going to go back to California after graduation, and I wanted to travel, so I focused on passing my classes and figuring out an after graduation plan.

But his emails persisted. Our conversation on what I suppose would be called dates remained animated and interesting. And he kept emailing, I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid there would be some sort of Todd; I would decide I really liked him and he would up and break it off for some reason or another.

So I continued to focus on my studies, until Jordan came over to “watch a movie.” We all know what that means. He wasn’t interested in seeing a movie, in fact the only reason he remembers what movie we were watching that night was because he wrote a song about it a few days later. Of course we kissed that night.

It just escalated from there. It was right and we both knew it. It was weird to not be around each other and I hated the days when we’d be too busy with classes, papers, and club meetings (his clubs, I wasn’t in clubs) to hang out.

He proposed on a sunny August day at Kerry Park and since then we haven’t spent more than nine days apart. That’s right exactly nine and I know that because he finally came back last Sunday.

Of course everything isn’t butterflies and rainbows all the time, but that’s not what I was expecting. He is a silly boy after all, and I’m one of those unpredictable girls. But at least we know we have each other.


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