Last night was the 5 year anniversary of our 1st date. That’s half-a-decade or a whopping 1,825 days together. Have I committed to anything else in my life for that long? Sure, there’s my family, my love for movies and basketball, great friendships; but in a way those all come with the territory. You are born into your family, you choose hobbies at a very young age, and you make friends with those who live near or attend the same school. Hell, often you become friends with whomever your mom sticks you with on a play-date. A long-term, adult relationship is different, because you are making an independent, personal choice. You pick a girl you like to look at, you smile like an idiot at her, and you go out on a date. Booze doesn’t even have to be a factor if you’re really interested in someone.
Our 1st date was on July 2nd, 2003. Admittedly, my initial excitement that day had a lot more to do with the release of Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines, the third film in the classic Arnold Schwarzenegger series. My girlfriend and I were working at a summer camp in Maine and that night several of my friends were going to see T3 at Chunky’s, a cheap near-by movie theater distinguished for its leather seats, tables, and full menu, including drinks. Prior to that evening, she and I had done a little flirting here and there, but nothing serious had developed. I invited her to join us that night, news that quickly spread like a wild-fire (hey, it’s summer camp), mostly through my chatty younger brother, who saw a golden opportunity in the making. I had thought we’d all be driving as a group in a couple of cars. Instead, my brother made sure they were all long gone by the time my girlfriend’s shift ended, forcing us to drive separately to meet them all at the movies. Moments like this embarrass me, and he knew it when he saw my half-smiling, flushed cheeks enter the theater.
Needless to say the movie sucked, a huge disappointment since T2 was one of the best action movies ever made. She ended up falling asleep in her cozy chair around the one hour mark, teaching me the invaluable lesson that it’s better to pick an activity both of us might enjoy rather than just me. I also learned that she’s an “early-to-bed, early-to-rise” person, or the exact opposite of me. Still, I’ve managed to forget this on at least 25 occasions since, always wondering why she can’t finish watching something we start after 9pm. When the movie ended I woke her up and she had a cute, sheepish smile once she realized she’d been snoozing for an hour. We hung out at camp late that night, just talking and getting to know one another. She’s an only child from Louisiana, and I’m the oldest of three from Boston. But despite many background differences, I knew one thing for sure by July 3rd . . . I liked her, a lot. She was pretty and smart, cool and fun, with an immature sense of humor that has nearly proved my equal. We had a great summer, one destined to end like most others. Unsure whether she would truly hear from me again, she was surprised to hear her phone ring a few hours later at the airport. I had called just to say hi and see how she was doing. To this day, that’s probably the best phone call I ever made in my life.
We did long distance for a while, visiting one another every couple months, and sharing late night phone calls until 3 or 4 am. The following June she moved to Boston, and the rest as they say, is history. We’ve lived all over the place, from Arlington to Newton to Brighton to The South End. But in August, we will make our biggest move, to Akron, Ohio. She got into graduate school there for Audiology (She’s going to be a doctor. How smart am I?) Honestly, it was not an overnight decision to move with her. I’d be leaving my family, my friends, and my job contacts for a town most people only know Lebron James’ home. But in the end, leaving all of that wouldn’t be as hard as leaving her.
When you get to be my age (27), life forces you to start thinking about the big picture, never my forte. I generally try to avoid all big decisions; they scare me and I’m more comfortable living day to day. They also force you to grow up faster, and anyone who knows me well understands that under this hair covered face, I’m really 15. I still love Dumb and Dumber and Happy Gilmore and I don’t give a rat’s ass about politics. I would choose a double-cheeseburger over a salad almost any day, despite knowing the calorie count. I’d rather hang out at a mall or visit Six flags then go to a park or a museum. Many of the situations that make me laugh the hardest are so inappropriate I dare not print them here. Still, I’m old enough to know I love someone. Those feelings come without doubt and have only grown stronger over the last several years, to the point that I’m comfortable writing about them in a forum read by friends (and brothers) who will undoubtedly make fun of me. But I don’t care.
Last night to celebrate we had dinner at Top of the Hub, a fancy restaurant located on the 52nd floor atop the Prudential. If there’s a better view in the city, I haven’t found it. We ate and we drank and we talked, which amazingly never grows tiresome after 45 million conversations. It was undoubtedly one of the best nights of my life, and a significant step up from $5.00 tickets to see Arnold take on a female terminator. I think it’s safe to say that if our next five years together are anything like our last five, life will have been pretty damn good to me.
Happy Anniversary Mush
