Ten years ago today a woman showed up at my house, and when I opened the door the first thought that went through my mind was, "She's out of my league. Tonight will be the only date I ever get with her."
Today we picked out colors to repaint the exterior of our house.
Ten years ago I was living in Huntsville. I worked at AL.com, and I owned a comic book shop called Haven. Misty and I met online (as much as I hate to admit it). We weren't looking for a date -- it just worked out that way. When we realized that neither of us had plans for New Year's Eve, on a whim I asked her if she wanted to do something together.
The two of us went to a concert from the Huntsville Symphony Orchestra where they were performing a tribute to John Williams. I was sure that she was itching to escape as soon as the orchestra stopped playing, yet when it was over, I asked if she'd like to walk around Big Spring Park, and she agreed.
We circled the pond talking until the cold rain drove us away. But miraculously our date didn't end. We decided to head to the home of some friends of mine who were having a New Year's Eve party. When the midnight hour arrived and everyone kissed, we didn't really know what to do. A first kiss is awkward enough without an audience.
It must have worked out OK, though. Ten years later, our date is still going.
Sometimes I miss Huntsville. I miss my friends who lived there. I miss my store. But the one constant in my life that has lasted though the past decade is that woman who showed up on my doorstep. She and I have been through so much together, and I'm happy to know that she'll be by my side to experience whatever else life throws at us for decades to come.
I love you, Misty.