Silly Valentine's Day. I'm not an overly sentimental, mushy person. I don't hold onto many keepsakes, and I don't think those reminiscings are all that important. What is important is the day to day love and kindness and grace. Waking up every day with a commitment to someone, with shared dreams and lives.
Forgive me, then, if I take a moment to reminisce on the mysterious origins of my marriage. A couple weeks ago Chris was going through his emails, and he came across one of the first emails I sent to him after we graduated from the eharmony process. I thought you might get a kick out of an excerpt:
I came into work this morning, shivering from the cold. I had to waitHappy Month o' Love Everyone!
fifteen minutes in my car for the darn thing to warm up enough to melt the
frost off the windshield. And I refuse to get out the ice scraper before
November. I'm dressed in khaki pants, leather sandals, and a huge yellow
sweatshirt that says "Big Daddy" on the front. (It's one of the thousands of
products we sell, and I got it for five bucks. I find it amusing). I combed
my hair but didn't wash it. Left off the makeup. Didn't even brush my teeth
yet. Just crawled over here to check my email.
There are two people I'm corresponding with on a regular/serious basis right
now. You and a guy named Ben who lives about 45 minutes from me. For the
past month after I shoved myself onto the market, I've been juggling. And
I've narrowed down the field to you two. And I have to be honest. I want
you. I sat down here at my desk, read through the latest email from Ben that
was sent to my work account. And he mentioned that I shouldn't be surprised
if he called me this morning. And then I got online and checked my hotmail
account, and there you were. As alive and pulsing as anybody... so real and
tangible even though you really are just words on a screen. Halfway through
your email, with my pulse racing and an idiotic grin spread across my face,
my damn cell phone rings. And it's Ben.
He's a very nice guy... incredibly stable. Owns his own home. Has a loving
and great family. And if you weren't holding me so close to your heart, I'd
probably throw myself at him. Which would be a mistake. Because no matter
how ideal he appears, "it" just isn't there. That divine spark of knowing.
The flutter. The chemistry and pheremones that glues me to your emails.
We'll figure out the rest. What matters most is the connection we have
already. This nameless force, this thread that seems to bind us together,
even though we probably haven't been closer than a thousand miles to each
other. We could probably ignore it. And move on. But I don't want to. I feel
deep within my body that you're mine already. That it's a foregone
conclusion. Does this scare you?