Mike and I legit had a whirlwind of a courtship. I remember when we first met (yes, on Tinder), we texted for a week. Seven days. We chatted briefly about our pasts, touched on our careers, and then we just talked. Sometimes we would send a quick question (Favorite coffee stand?) and sometimes we would carry on for hours and hours about nothing and everything.
We finally spoke on the phone, which honestly was limited as we both have lots of interruptions, I mean kids.
Mike said he was in no rush to meet. This part was his favorite, he said, and we were laying the groundwork for something big.
And then we went on our first date on August 31st. I sent pictures of multiple outfits to girlfriends, polling which dress was the best. My kids helped pick out my shoes, and weighed in on the ever-important hair up or hair down debate.
I still remember the kids running in to my room to let me know he was there to pick me up.
I nervously walked inside, just as he rounded the front end of his truck with a handful of flowers. We greeted each other and awkwardly embraced in a hug. I ran the bouquet inside, and came back out as he opened the truck door for me. Despite my heels, I struggled to climb in (and on the drive, Mike made several jokes about compensating for safety with the size of his massive rig) and we held hands and conversed easily on the way to the restaurant.
We arrived at a now-closed seafood restaurant and picked at our bland food (probably the reason they’re no longer in business). For – wait for it – two and a half hours. We sat until staff was became increasingly obvious about closing time approaching, and we chatted back to the car.
This next part is my favorite; it still stirs the butterflies in my stomach and makes me smile and blush. Just like in a movie, we went in for a quick hug, and then absolutely mauled each other. Lips and hands were flying everywhere as we remained locked in an embrace. It was so primal, and so stinkin’ hot.
After we tore away from each other, we went out for ice cream, still conversing easily. We enjoyed our ice cream sitting on the tailgate of his truck in the parking lot and talked. And talked and talked and talked.
As it grew chilly outside, we moved back to the cab and agreed to drive around for awhile. Our conversation never ceased, with words and laughter flowing freely. This was something big indeed.
I don’t recall who suggested parking and looking at the city lights, but we agreed. We drove up to one of the hills overlooking our small town, and I unbuckled my seatbelt and scooted over in the truck. We sat and talked some more, kissed, and talked some more.
Have I mentioned yet that Mike is a police officer? That’s an important part of the story, because next….
The cab lit up with red and blue lights from the outside. Mike and I busted up laughing as he rolled down the window, to greet two of his coworkers. “Hey, guys!” He hollers. I am sure he still gets flack from them in the office to this day.
Mike drove me home, and we talked on the phone for a few more hours like we were back in high school.
We were definitely building something big. We quickly became inseparable, with Mike attending my birthday dinner and meeting each other for lunch during my breaks. We attempted to keep the kids apart for a few weeks, and when we introduced them to each other, they got along fairly well. It just seemed too good to be true.
Our dating was messy and we had bumps in the road, trying to juggle a relationship with work and maintaining two houses and children from previous marriages. I will say the hardest part about dating after a divorce is to remember you are not in another marriage. Don’t depend on that person like you would a spouse, and try your best not to carry over past expectations and wounds.
We did our best to keep our own houses, but we were much too in love to be apart for any length of time. Mike owned his home in the same school district mine attended, and I was in a rental. We spent Thanksgiving together at his parents house, and when we came home, Mike asked my boys if they wanted to bring their beds to his house. They excitedly agreed, and I followed along with a happy heart.
Moving in together brought its own struggles, but we made it work. We had our first Christmas together, celebrated a full round of birthdays and then in the spring Mike proposed on a trip to Napa.
We wrote our own vows and eloped at one of our favorite vineyards with the presence of Mike’s parents, and his sister officiating our ceremony.
This has been a ride. We’ve had (more than our share) of fights, disagreements, suffered loss and pain that no one should ever have to endure. We’ve also experienced love that has completed us, healed us, and comforted us.
And when we go to sleep at night, we say:
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Always.”
“Forever and ever.”
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