So he had met someone. Someone who wasn’t far away. Someone who didn’t need to make a major move to be closer. I could tell you I was ok with that, but the truth is that I wasn’t. But what could I do? Sure, we had spent months talking on the phone… but in person, well, we’d spent only two days.
He said he needed to be sure.
I guess I understood, but I was totally crushed. I was already sure. I knew I’d marry him. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew.
Even so, the breakup did happen. And I did move closer to where he was, but still a distance. Two hours away to be exact.
I went about my life. I transferred to university. I met new people. I even began dating someone. I decided to move on, and I sort of did.
We’d spent those two days together in May 1997. He broke off our long distance thing in June 1997. I went on an epic road trip with my dad in July 1997, then moved out and on my own in August 1997. I didn’t hear from future hubby again until April 1998.
I was in a relationship. We’d been dating since about three weeks after I moved. We had a lot of fun together, but future plans were not in the making. It was an exclusive dating arrangement, but it wasn’t a forever thing and we both knew it.
So when my phone rang in April of 1998, and future hubby was on the line telling me he was an idiot and he missed me and all he ever thought about was me and blah, blah, blah… well, the dating relationship wasn’t hard to end.
He told me he knew he’d screwed up almost immediately after breaking things off with me. It could have been a line, who knows… But we’re married now so I guess that doesn’t matter.
We talked for the month of April. He had called my parents and asked for my new number. My mom gave it to him because she knew what I knew… he was the one.
And in May 1998, we made plans to have a weekend together again. This time it was three days. I hopped on a train to meet him and we drove a few hours to our weekend getaway. We had a great time, again.
And then I went back home.
We kept talking daily. Phone bills were starting to grow huge, but at the end of June 1998, he called my workplace and announced he was moving the two hours to where I was. And he asked if he could stay with me. And he told me he’d be there in less than a week.
Chat rooms… letters… phone calls, and five days total of in person contact… And he moved in. July 2, 1998, he asked me to marry him.
As you know, I said yes.
We got married two years later. It was a long engagement per the request of my father.