The first fight

We returned from our blissful yet allergic overnight in the big city without my parents’ knowledge that I’d been in the city and- oh yeah- almost died. Now it was time to celebrate the few precious moments we had left before he graduated and moved to a galaxy far, far away. Or, to Tampa, which was two hours away.
December meant he was graduating, and I was meeting the family that was coming to watch him graduate. They were nice. We went out to the fanciest of restaurants, his dad, mom (who were divorced), his grandma, and her husband Gerri. It was then that I realized a little bit of what I was getting into. He had told me that his family was wealthy, but I didn’t realize to what extent. Even at this point, I only had an inkling.

My parents had just moved to Arkansas at this time. He’d had drinks with my dad just before they moved, just to meet him and spend some time mano y mano. He came back from that encounter telling me what every man who meets my stepdad tells the woman who introduced them: he’s nice and normal and you’re nuts if you think he’s mean or crazy. (He’d later change that tune, as all the men eventually do.) After he graduated, I drove to Little Rock to spend the better part of a month with them, without seeing my beloved.

He moved down to Tampa, and we talked on the phone every night. For two years we talked on the phone every night. There were no cell phones, and no unlimited long distance for that matter, so while everyone else was getting new clothes and going out to party, I was spending $100 a month on my phone bill. That was a lot of money back then. (You know, when we walked to school barefoot uphill both ways).

He came up to see me every chance he got. There was always a fraternity party or brothers to see, and he always had a couch to crash on. I went down to see him as much as I could. We worked it out to where we never went more than a couple of weeks without seeing each other.

He lived alone in his apartment in Tampa, and it was walking distance to this little dive bar called the Green Iguana. Some of my fondest memories were during this time. Driving to see him after class on Fridays, getting there just as he was getting home from work. Spending time together just the two of us, absent of any friends or distractions. Playing house together. Getting up and going out for breakfast. Going to movies and out to dinner. It felt like grown-up living.

February rolled around and with it came Valentine’s Day. I was heading down there for a romantical weekend. He wasn’t sure what to get me, so he got me one of everything. Some flowers, a stuffed animal, and plenty of my favorite candy (Spree hearts, which they don’t make anymore. I think I ate them out of business.) He also bought me my favorite Disney movie, Sleeping Beauty. It was VHS. We’re talking that long ago.

That night we got into our first fight, but I don’t remember what it was about. I use the term ‘fight’ loosely. Since neither of use had really ever been in anything resembling a relationship, it was a big deal to us. I remember it was dark, with only the tv providing light, and I am pretty sure there may have been some wine consumed.

As we were talking through the fight, the word marriage was thrown out, and it was then that we started to first discuss getting married seriously. We both knew we were going to be together forever, but now we were seriously talking about it and labeling it. It felt glorious.

I had (and still have) a ring that will be my engagement ring, should I ever meet a husband. My mother has possession of it, and my intended will have to ask her for it (but it will save him thousands of dollars, so that’s a plus. We’ll call it a dowry.) At the time, my parents were living about 16-20 hours away, so getting it was not quite possible at that moment. I was quite sure that he’d go home with me one Thanksgiving or Christmas and get it then, but until that happened, we’d just blissfully plan the wedding details and set dates and such.

We were only one month away from my birthday, which would be an unknown foreshadow of the relationship to follow.