Tag: marriage

By the time you read this, it will have been a full two weeks since I wrote it. Yes, this is how far in advance I plan these things. Tonight, or rather two weeks ago, my wife read me a journal entry she’d written about our courtship almost a year before our marriage. I had to cross-reference it with my own journal entry for that same period to find what I thought of our friendship.

Can you believe we wrote journal entries of our experiences together before we got married, and we didn’t know we did until a few years ago? Enjoy this Freedom Friday post, it’s about my wife and I, and how we became more than friends.

As I’d mentioned, my wife and I kept journals. We didn’t know we did, and we certainly didn’t know we’d write about our experiences from two different points of views. For instance, a few months prior to making my intentions known that I’d wanted our friendship to move to a new level, she was dating other guys. Nothing came of those relationships, but she did learn what she didn’t want in a guy.

In the meantime, I’d written how I had dated widely—not the girl Widely—widely in the sense of extensively or broadly. I know, corny joke. Anyway, at the time, I’d dated almost every girl in our church. It was a goal I had, and I’d almost completed it had I not chased after my wife.

When we first met, we had zero attraction to one another. Yep. Zilch. Nada. Squat. Don’t get me wrong, we got along. We dated a few times, you know, because we liked each other’s company and all, but we didn’t have that “love at first sight” lightning bolt strike us like you hear other couples had happen to them. We just became good friends, which meant hanging with the same crowd, doing stuff together, and simply having fun. We didn’t feel any pressure to become anything more either. Our families and our church let us do our thing while they went on their merry way.

And thank goodness we weren’t part of one of those cults that grooms kids to get married as soon as they hit legal age, and then the couple pops out a bazillion kids, and then one or both feels empty, lonely, depressed ‘cause one or both had to give up their dream on account of thinking they were doing what they were supposed to do but now they’re scratching their head wondering what went wrong since, after all, they fell in love with each other as soon as their eyes met in second period Chem. class and those awesome feelings were there and, and, and…

Whew! Where am I? Oh, now I remember—us.

By contrast, our relationship grew slowly. We dated other people while we stayed friends. Our Saturday nights consisted of practicing our singing routine with our outreach group that toured retirement homes on Sundays. As well, throughout the week, we’d stay in touch by phone, talking about the mundane things in life, like the way the fabric softener hides in the clothes when sorting them in baskets.

But it wasn’t until one sunny afternoon when we’d gone to the library together that we had realized something else brewed beneath the simple conversations, the spur of the moment dinners, and the long walks. I’d noticed it months prior, yet she hadn’t come around.

I can never forget where we were. We stood between bookshelves with the Italian section looking straight at us. And it happened. A giddy moment between friends. We exchanged the words, “I love you.”

From that moment forward, the awesomeness kicked in. Whatever we thought we hadn’t felt for each had suddenly appeared in gushing waves of affection that remains to this day. Not a day goes by that we don’t hug or hold hands. Like the other day, when she picked me up in the pouring rain from my walk, and she didn’t immediately put the car in drive but just stared at me.

I said, “What?”

She said, “Well?” then smiled.

Oh, of course. I kissed her.

We drove home to where I wrote another journal entry for that day.

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How would you describe your relationship with the love of your life?