Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Today is the one day of the year, so we learn as kids, when we are commercially compelled to acknowledge our affection for someone special. For me, it all started with one of those no-envelope cards kids buy in bulk. I wrote my name on it and left it, when she was hanging up her coat, for the little girl with short, curly blonde hair sitting two rows over and three desks up in Miss Brewer’s second grade class. (“If only, just maybe, she feels the same way about me,” I remember thinking to myself. “ ..Oh. Uh oh. She’s turning, holding my card and now she’s smiling at me. ..Oh, jeez. What do I do now?!”)
Decades later, she still has me asking the same question. “Jeez, what do I do now?” For many more years than I can count on all my fingers and toes, I’ve been married to that girl with the short blonde hair. Not the same one I met in elementary school. Not exactly. It just seems that way, as if we’ve always been together, as if that was the way it was supposed to be from the very beginning. It’s a good feeling and I’m pretty sure that was when, back in Miss Brewer’s second grade class, I fell in love with the girl with the short blonde hair I met in college and married a few years later.
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