To start off, I want to tell you about my family and how we came to be, but this is a long story with quite a few parts.
It begins, as it often does these days, with the internet–a text-based game, to be precise. Yeah, buddy, that’s where romance is born. I wasn’t so great at the game, I’m sure many can relate when I say that watching a million lines of text fly by wasn’t easy or fun for me. I may be a nerd, but evidently not that kind. Anyway, here I befriended my now husband, then mysterious and funny guy that rarely spoke in chat.
I don’t remember why we started talking, but once we did we became fast friends. We had a ton of the same interests and he was fun to talk to. We spoke frequently, about anything and everything. I was at a fairly low point in my life–certainly not the lowest, but I was lonely, bored, and stuck at home–so having an interesting new friend in California was exciting. I was happy to have a kindred spirit to talk to.
I remember the moment that I realized that I was in love, and I recklessly told him. Surprisingly he said that felt the same way. He asked me if I wanted to talk on the phone, and I knew as soon as I made that phone call that my heart was no longer my own.
So we had decided that we were in love. We even told our families, how odd does that sound? It’s funny to me now, but back then I was stuck living with my parents, unable to drive, and feeling perpetually unwanted. When I told my parents my dad facetiously told me to move to California. Matt and I would go on hikes in our respective locations and send each other pictures of wildlife and scenery the whole time. We woke up every morning and talked and spoke at night before going to bed. I knew who I wanted to be with, but an unwavering part of me also knew that I would never get to see this man face to face. It felt hopeless.
I guess I didn’t know quite as much as I thought I did; when winter came we decided that we had to finally see each other. I flew out to meet him (to the dismay of my family, so sure that he was an axe murderer) a few days after Christmas. We spent two weeks together, the latter half of which I spent sick in bed. We hiked, went to the beach, roamed the mountains. A few days before I had to fly back my sinuses cleared up enough to spend two nights camping together. He had secretly bought a ring and slipped it onto my finger before I knew what was happening. We had a great time, but unfortunately my trip was over, and after we exchanged tearful goodbyes I flew home.
All I could think about was how to close the distance. Being back home was torturous when I knew what I wanted for the first time in my life. Thankfully, a month later I once again found myself boarding a flight destined for LAX and spent another two weeks there. This time when I flew back I felt better. It was hard to go, but I knew that I would see him again.
I guess we seemed so silly and sad that once spring break came around his mom told him that he really needed to just drive out, pack my stuff, and drive me home to California, and so by George that’s what happened. He met my family, we packed the car and my cat, and took off for the west coast.