02/09/11: Four years ago...

Four years ago today my life changed forever! 

(This is going to be a sappy, sickening post!)

So, a bit of background.  My dad died on January 20th, 2007.  I went to California and wound up staying for about two weeks before returning to Texas.  I got back to Texas on a Sunday, pretty late at night and went to work the next day.  That was about the longest work week I think I've ever experienced.  I knew one of my coworker's/close friend's birthday was on Friday and I knew she was having a dinner party at a restaurant followed by bar-hopping around town.  I planned on going, all week, but by Thursday evening I was thinking I was barely going to make it to work on Friday.  Thursday evening, talking on the phone with my best friend, she kept saying, "just go, you know you have to eat.  Then bow out after dinner."  I went to work Friday and heard the same thing from all of my coworkers who were planning on going themselves.  So ultimately, wearing slouchy jeans, an oversized button down flannel shirt and tennies, with my hair not done and not a speck of makeup involved, I decided to go.  I looked a mess and I didn't care.

I went to dinner thinking I'd eat and go home.  And when I walked in the restaurant, the birthday girl had not yet arrived.  Most of our group, about 20 people, were hanging around in the bar and almost all of us were coworkers except for about 5 people.  One of those 5 saw me walk up to the group so he introduced himself, asking if I was friends with the birthday girl, and we shook hands.  That was that. 

About two seconds later, the birthday girl arrived.  And the guy I just shook hands with sat next to the birthday girl since he didn't really know anyone else there.  I sat across the table from them next to some coworkers on my left and a stranger on my right.  As everyone settled, that same guy I shook hands with received a phone call.  He got up to take it outside.  While he was away, another guy walked in and took the now empty seat next to the birthday girl.  So the guy I shook hands with returns from his phone call to see his seat now taken and the only available seat left is to the right of the guy to my right.  He takes that seat and everyone settles into conversation.

I take stock of my surroundings at this point.  The two coworkers to my left are people I can do without.  Do I jump into conversation with them?  Or there are two strangers to my right.  Do I jump into conversation with them?  I, of course, am tired and just want to go home.  But just sitting there staring into space doesn't entirely appeal to me, either.  And then I notice the two strangers talking about Galveston.  Galveston is why I moved to Texas so right then and there, I decide to jump into that conversation.  And luckily, these two strange guys, who don't know each other, either, let me.

And so it began.  We had a long conversation about Galveston.  Each of the three of us had ties to Galveston somehow.  And then the conversation did what conversations do at such things and it went all over the place.  And before long, David, the guy to my direct right pushes back from the table to let Fred, the guy to his right, and I, talk and talk and talk.

By the time desert was done, Fred was hard at work "convincing" me I had to go bar-hopping with the group.  Not wanting to go because 1) I looked like a slouch, 2) I was tired, and 3) because of not knowing whether my grief was playing tricks on me, I also knew that I had to.  So I "let" him convince me for awhile and as we walked out of the restaurant, I decided to do just that.

Fred and I left together, but in our own cars.  I followed him home where he dropped his car off and he then jumped into mine for the bar-hopping.  We talked and talked and talked and "got lost" in downtown Houston looking for an ATM and just enjoying the conversation and the ability to talk unimpeded by noise and friends.  About an hour later, we "found" ourselves and got to our designated bar.  I later learned the guy who stole the seat by the birthday girl at the restaurant was his best friend.  And the call he stepped outside to take was a girl who wanted to date him. 

Fred and I spent most all of that weekend together.  We stayed up all night Friday night talking.  Yes, I mean talking!  We stayed up all but one hour of Saturday night talking, too.  And yes, I mean talking.  Sheesh.  He was attending a conference with his dad during the days and he'd leave that conference and head straight back to me.  When he got back to me Saturday, he brought his dog "home" with him and except for one night, Raider never left our house again.

Thinking, as we left for work on Monday, that things might be moving "too fast" we decided to spend Monday apart.  As he left for work, he took Raider with him.  We talked all the way to work.  We talked all the way through work.  And after work we went to our respective homes, got on the phone, and talked until 4am.  After that, we decided, it was pointless to be apart if we were just going to sit on the phone.  That was the last night we spent apart from each other.

By the end of March, he had officially moved in with me.  By June 1st, we were engaged.  And on May 10th, of the following year, we were married.

Before I met Fred, February 9th was a horrid day for me.  It is the day I was raped while still in the Navy and this time of year has, historically, caused a lot of emotions and feelings and fears to really get stirred up.  Since meeting Fred four years ago, this day is beautiful and my life is so much better for it.

Here is this man that knows all about me.  I have no secrets from him - and he likes me anyway.  He sees the bear in me at "that time of the month" and loves me anyway.  He sees the softness in me, the fragility in me (something no one else can see), and the innate ability to be a good person.  He sees the judging side of me, the harsh side of me, the side that is intolerant.  Through the good - he loves me more.  Through the bad - he acknowledges that I am just "real".  He can make me smile when no one else can.  He can make me laugh at the stupidist shit.  He can teach me, he can prop me up, and he absolutely makes my world a better place.

It is so real to say he is my everything.  He is my dream come true - and  Oh.  So.  Much.  More.  He is everything I ever thought I wanted - and more than I ever could have fathomed.

When I met Fred I was depressed in a scary way.  A way I had never seen myself.  If I lived or died I did not care.  I was not going to do anything to take my own life, but I did not value my life at all.  I had lost my mom and dad in the span of three years and little did I know that I was about to lose my step-dad, too - the one that was probably more my "daddy" than my own dad.  I had friendships fall apart and break, friendships I thought would last forever.  I had been laid off twice and was in an underpaid and going nowhere job.  I didn't see that any good was coming of my life and I didn't see that it could be "fixed".

In just simply meeting Fred, I found hope.  And through all that Fred and I have been through, that hope cannot be lost anymore.  When I feel down on myself, now, I can think of Fred and know that I have to fight to get through it.

And like I said, in spite of knowing me better than anyone, he likes me anyway.

So this day, four years ago, changed everything.  It taught me that beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder.  He did not see the slouchy jeans or the oversized flannel or the undone hair.  He saw beautiful eyes that had a glimmer like no other.  He didn't hear sadness and despair, he heard toughness and compassion.  He didn't feel sorry for me but rather wanted to simply hold my hand.

So, sweetheart, honeydear, sweetiebyebie, my love - I love you more than life itself.  And may the next four years be as spectacular as the last four.  I am so glad I get to spend my life with you!