Love Bites

Today marks the day that I've served 11 years of my life sentence.

In other words: I met Steve 11 years ago today.

Depending on what mood I'm in or who I'm talking to, I tell people either that we were introduced by a friend - or we met in a bar.

Both are actually true. 

This "new guy" had started working for the same company as my best friend, Holly.  I lived in the city an hour away and every time I talked to her she would tell me about this Steve guy whom she thought I would like.  She tried to set up group cocktails a few times - which I drove the hour to attend - and he was a no show. I gave up on meeting him after a few attempts to which he obviously had something better to do (like drink beer while watching sports in his basement suite).

Then one night I came into town with a girlfriend and we proceeded to drink quite a bit.  Suddenly Holly came up to me and said "That guy is here. Do you want to meet him?" (or something along those lines, like I said - I'd drank a bit).  Game, I said, "sure".

A guy after my own heart, the minute after we were introduced he bought me a beer.  I chatted with him for a bit (blurry). And at the end of the night we slow danced to Def Leopard (I think it is was "Love Bites" - how cheesy!).  At the end of the song he kissed me on the forehead and promptly left.

He left?!

Oh well, at that point I wasn't about to fret or chase so I just figured that was the end of it.

I finished my last drink and stepped outside for some fresh air.  I sat down on the sidewalk outside the bar and this little white Volkswagen Golf pulled up.  Steve rolled down the window about 3 inches and said to me "Get in".

I did.

My sober friend, Steve's friend and Steve and I drove back into the city and went to Denny's for breakfast - where Steve was pretty much "falling asleep" (NOT passing out).

Steve and his friend stayed the night at my place (it was all very innocent, I swear!). The next morning we drove the hour back to town so I could get my vehicle and Steve could go to work. 

Figured I'd never hear from him again.  But... I did.  He called. We watched a movie the next night.  The following night was Valentines Day and he came back into the city to visit me. 

We've been together almost every day since.

Last night I was standing at the stove, cooking dinner and he said, "Valentines Day is on Monday. What do you want to do about that?" I said, "And tomorrow is our 11 year anniversary too!"

And he forgot for a minute that I can see his reflection in the microwave as he made a face and rolled his eyes.

The most I was hoping for was perhaps combining the two dates and maybe having a steak and a couple of beers together one night after the kids go to bed.  I already bought the steak.  I guess I should pick up the beer too. 

I suppose I shouldn't expect so much. After all, our first dinner date was at 3am in a Dennys and Steve was barely concious. 

Try not to be jealous of the level of romance in my life.