That Pillow Fight in Wal-Mart: 4 Years Later

Four years ago today, my (future) husband and I went on our second date.

The night grew long, but Billy and I didn't want it to end. We drove around looking for something to do. We found that Wal-Mart was open, so we went inside, roamed the aisles, and found ourselves in the pillow aisle having a slaphappy pillow fight.

I already felt different with Billy than I ever had with anyone else. I found him exhilarating and exciting, but I felt perfectly comfortable with him. Like I could leave all my worries and hang-ups and insecurities at the curb and just enjoy him. Us. The feeling of sharing space with someone who could turn me on, calm me down, challenge me, and take care of me. 

I could surrender to this man. But this time it was different, because I wouldn't lose myself. Billy adored me too, and made me shine brighter than I did alone. Only two dates in, I was already certain that I wanted to be with him for the rest of my life.

Fast-forward to four years later. This morning. We're doing one of our favorite things: watching a cooking competition on Hulu and debating who should win, and who actually will. Billy made me a big plate of eggs and fresh tomatoes, just like I wanted, and I try to finish them all so he'll know how much I liked them.

As he reaches out and drapes a hand across my leg, I sizzle with excitement.

Still true:

 

Two Things I Am Grateful For Today

1. This cat.

Firefly is 17-and-a-half, has only one tooth, and lives with (carefully managed) irritable bowel syndrome and high blood pressure. She doesn't like to play or even leave her bedroom much anymore, which means she really only likes one thing: cuddling with me. She lives to cuddle with me. She waits for me, on her favorite chair, all day long. When I sit with her, whether for five minutes or a couple hours, she purrs and languishes and gazes at me. She shows me that I've literally made her whole day.

It's really sweet.

2. The life my husband gave me.

Last night, we went on a date to see his friends Justin and Brian play music. We enjoyed good music, good food, and best of all, we got to share the band's excitement when they nailed a song particularly well.

I realize that if I hadn't held out so long, I could have ended up with someone whose passion is video games or college basketball. That kind of life would not have thrilled me or even suited me at all. Instead, I got the only life I'm really suited for: traveling and hanging out with with bands and musicians.

Musicians aren't like any other kind of people, and they are my favorite people. Especially this one.

These are the Things We Fight About

 

Billy's band plays Cleveland tonight. I'm going to miss him!

Cleveland is a 2.5 hour drive, so I told him he should trade cars with me this weekend. My car is newer, can hold more guitars, and is more reliable. He said we'd discuss that idea later.

So, this morning, I kissed him goodbye and started to leave for the day -- in his car.

Billy wouldn't hear of it. His car, he said, wasn't reliable enough for me to drive to work.

I fought back. "But I'd rather have it break down for me, here in Pittsburgh, than for you, far away in Cleveland. You can't put all your guitars and amps on a tow truck!"

But Billy wouldn't budge. He wasn't going to drive my new car.

We fought about it for a while.

Eventually, I gave in. I knew that there was zero chance that my husband would ever, EVER, let me drive away in an unreliable car.

That's just the kind of man he is.

It's the same way he refuses to eat the last serving of food -- ever. We'll fight about how full we are and who should finish dinner, until he finally packs up the leftovers for me to eat for lunch the next day.

Billy is steadfast. He always puts me first.

I dated enough men to know how very, very rare this quality is. And now, I appreciate it with all my heart. Maybe best of all, it makes me take a critical eye to my own actions. Would I do the same for him? I think I would. I hope so.

But just to make sure, I make his coffee every day, and I have his breakfast ready for him, and I do whatever else I can think of in an earnest attempt to even the score.

May neither of us ever win.

How Are You Supposed to Know When You've Found "The One?"

How are you supposed to know when you've found the person you're meant to marry?

It's a question I asked myself a lot when I was single. I would scroll through pages and pages of Match.com profiles, feeling skeptical. I'd sit in my car before a first date and wonder if the next few hours were supposed to change my life forever. I wanted to believe that my person was out there, but it was exhausting wondering if each bozo who sent me a message on OkCupid was him.

I was worried that I wouldn't know if it happened to me. I heard stories about love that kindled slowly, over time, and I worried that I'd get bored with my date before discovering that I actually loved him.

I didn't know, then, that love would hit me fantastically hard. When I did meet the man I was supposed to marry, it would be obvious.

Now I only wish that I'd trusted that it would be. I wouldn't have wasted so much time.

Here's how it happened.

How I Knew I'd Found The Man I Was Going to Marry

• He took me on dates.
  Dates have become something rare and special. This is because so many men now expect women to hang out. This is often boring, and always sends a mixed message. ("Does he like me? Or are we just friends? And if we're not going anywhere, can I change into my yoga pants?")
  But not my Billy. He took me out. He made fun plans. He paid for me, he held doors open for me, and he bought me flowers. All of these things made it clear that he liked me and was working hard to win my affection.
  He won it.

• There were no games.
  I recently learned that some people are so calculated about dating, they'll even time their responses to their text messages in order to gain the upper hand. For example, if it takes their date five minutes to reply to a text, they will then wait ten minutes before replying to them.
  WHAT? Why do you need the upper hand if you (supposedly) like each other?
  Billy did not do this. There was no upper hand. In fact, he put all his cards on the table. He never kept me waiting. He texted me all day long. He confessed everything. He blurted out "I love you." He showed me a picture of himself at his chubbiest, and also his fittest, and asked me if I could be okay with either of his two extremes. I was so charmed, I gave him an emphatic yes. 
  
• He dazzles me.
  This is important, since I just told you that he texted me all day long. Billy is not the first man to ever come on strong. He's just the first man that I couldn't get enough of. He's funny, sharp, talented, a little crazy, and I never know what's going to come out of his mouth next. I love being around to witness what he's going to do next.
  
• He is generous.
  There are rich men, poor men, and the best, rarest men all: generous men. Billy is the most generous man I have ever met.
  I first saw this when Billy and I went to Kennywood on an early date. We shared their legendary French fries. Billy had never had them before and I wanted to make sure he enjoyed them, so I made sure I ate all the burnt, shriveled fries and left the crispy, golden brown ones for him. Soon, we were both done eating, and only the most perfect, pristine fries remained. It turns out that he was also eating the ugly fries -- to save the best ones for me.
  Billy is not a rich man. But he'd always go without to give me the best of everything he has.
  
• He is attentive.
  This one was the clincher.
  One day, before Billy and I lived together, I decided to Facetime him. He answered. Even though he was in the middle of checking out at the post office. Even though he was sublimely embarrassed when my enthused, "HEY BABY!" was heard by everyone in line. He always answers me.
  Billy lavishes me with all the attention I need, which is a lot. He checks on me. He lets me know when he misses me. I always know where he is. And he makes me feel loved, every single day.

That is why it didn't take me long to nail this thing down. It took me 33 long years to find him, and now, I promise to appreciate him every single day.  

Men Should Drink Coffee

Coffee is delicious treat. And, it's a thing that you do.

I love making coffee, drinking coffee, and going out for coffee. When we were house-hunting, my husband looked for things like brick construction and whole-house air. I looked for a nearby coffee shop. For me, a coffee shop = civilization.

Sometimes, I get excited about going to bed, because I know that when I wake up, I get to have coffee.

I'm so glad that my husband Billy loves coffee. I remember my dating days, and how bitterly disappointed I'd be when a new boyfriend told me that he didn't drink coffee. I'd suggest "getting coffee" as a fun activity, and the guy would say something awful like, "I'll have a hot chocolate."

At which point, I'd picture the barista handing my date something like this:

So embarrassing.

I love that Billy loves coffee. When we wake up on a road trip out of town, we know our first priority: finding good coffee. When we have a long drive ahead of us, we stop for coffee. We know that Sunday mornings are made for coffee. And we don't have to worry about offending each other with coffee breath. We just drink more coffee.

Men should drink coffee.