We walk in like we own the place, because at 21 we figure we spend enough time here to call it home. The owner promised free drinks if we fill his place up with girls so we belly up to the bar and order a round of vodka crans.
As we sit and gossip and contemplate our next move, a group of guys walks in with some older women. I recognize most of their faces. Growing up in a small town, there isn’t a whole lot of people who live here I haven’t seen at some point, even if it was just in line at the local grocery store.
One face, though, catches my eye instantly. I know his name, but we’ve never met. I’ve heard he’s The Most Eligible Bachelor in town… which probably means he’s full of himself. Good thing my girls and I have made a pact to stay single all summer, because he’s cute, really cute, but he’s older and, like I said, probably full of himself.
So, I decide to play coy for now. We order another few free rounds and catch up with a couple of the guys in the group who we play volleyball with on Sundays.
“Is Joe single?” I hear my friend ask one of his friends.
Damn it, she’s interested in him too.
Oh well, probably for the best… he looks like trouble. “Let’s go introduce ourselves…” she says with a wry smile and a side eye shot in his direction.
“Let’s do it.” I hear myself say as I realize I’m already to my feet.
As we push through the flock of older women to get to the two guys in the middle I suddenly realize I’m experiencing a rush of victory as if I’ve just captured the flag. The feeling quickly vanishes when I realize her beauty has caught his eye… as well as his friend’s.
Guess that settles that.
We convince them to go bar hopping with us, albeit we have a whopping three bars here.
As the night goes on I slowly realize his eyes have drifted from hers to mine. Seems he’s also noticed we have a lot in common. I decide to keep pushing the feelings of instant connection back. He’s a player, I think to myself. Don’t fall for it, I tell myself.
And suddenly, I’ve been pulled into the ally, wrapped in a man’s arms, lips locked.
As we walk out of the ally, laughing, he grabs my hand. The minute our palms touch, I know. This is different. A feeling so powerful I can’t convince myself otherwise no matter how hard I try.
It’s like I’ve come home.
I met my husband when I was 21 years old… he was 36.
I know what you’re thinking, because I would have thought the same thing. So, I don’t blame you for thinking it.
But, if you’ve read the entries of this blog leading up to this one, you know that by the young age of 21, I’d already experienced a lot of life.
I didn’t intend on falling in love that summer. Quite the contrary actually, but isn’t that the funny thing about love… seems to find you when you’re least expecting it.
And, while I try to convince you of believing in such unusual, unbelievable things… I can promise you; the moment we touched hands, I knew. He was made for me and I for him. I knew it was crazy… but I knew it was true.
Our relationship developed slowly that summer. As I was still trying my best to honor a pact I made with my friends. A pact intended to keep us from falling in love any time soon… so I honored the pact and didn’t admit to myself, or anyone else, that I was in love with him until Fall came.
The next Fall brought marriage.