Dear Matt,
I never thought ours an interesting love story. I don't even like telling people our origins - so banal, boring. We met in high school. You went to an all boys Catholic school. Me, an all girls Catholic school. Same upbringing. Same city. No surprises how we found each other or why we get along. But, it dawned on me somewhat recently how differently it could have all gone. How truly, in my memory of the whole thing, there was one, incredibly brief moment and conversation, on which our entire future hinged.
"Matt. Swimming is my first love." I said.
I'm completely and utterly dedicated to swimming. It comes before school. Before friends. Before family, even. So, it definitely comes before a budding senior high school fling. These represent just a tiny sampling of the incessant, unending, loud thoughts. I interpret this now as evidence of our immediate and incredibly strong connection. It sent me into a panic.
"If at any point, I feel like you, or our relationship, is a distraction or stressor, I will end it. No hard feelings, and nothing against you. It's just where my priorities lie at this moment."
You sort of smiled, and shrugged. And said. "Ok."
In true romance novel style. The strong, stubborn, maiden {never} in distress female "had things to do, places to be, stuff to accomplish" and "no man was going to slow her down or get in her way".
I don't know how long we'd been dating - but it couldn't have been more than a month. In again, the most cliché melodrama, it may have just been weeks, days even, but the unexpected happened. I already felt an attachment, interest, attraction - whatever you want to call it - unlike any I'd ever imagined, let alone experienced. (To be more clear than necessary: I wasn't overly interested in a relationship, nor did I think about them often, but I wasn't immune to teenage hormones nor the general human condition therefore possessed the natural human instinct to have relationships. This is to say that anything I'd potentially "imagined" was absolutely the furthest thing from a fairytale. I tended toward the skeptical pragmatic; I'll probably meet "the one" later, while in med school or residency. And, while we're at it, I don't even believe in "the one", aka soulmates. We all probably have multiple lids that might fit our pot. And, knowing myself, I'm sure I have/had LOTS of matches. Math. Statistics. Facts.)
I don't think you could have known the right answer, nor prepared for this statement to be thrown at you, but, nevertheless, I tossed at you such a cold, stark statement - and then you had me at "ok". That simple, no strings attached, completely genuine reply hit me like a ton of bricks. Knocking down a wall I had sincerely, never even known I'd built. It's as if you could sense that this intense, highly competitive, high energy, high self expectations perfectionist did not need one single other thing to make her feel an ounce of pressure.
You just said. "Ok". And then you never looked back.
Back to the fictional love tales theme, I wonder now, if as much as I was the prototypical independent, hard to get woman who needs no man - you were the strong, silent type man confidently smirking to himself. Perhaps saying, "ok" stoically on the outside but internally thinking, "I'll let her think she's in control, but the fact of the matter is, she will be unable to resist my charms. She has no idea what's coming. She is mine."
To be living this happily ever after of a fairytale love story that I never hoped nor imagined to be part of, still takes me by surprise, 15 years of marriage later. If you were to ask me, to this day, who likes the other one more? There is no right answer. While I'm generally more passionate about, well, everything! Your calm, steadfast and secure presence has never once wavered. Though our story is simple. Seemingly, so boring and cliché. Written a thousand times before - it's truly wonderful to me.
I could have never predicted this. Yet, it's so right, and I'm so happy it has played out this way.
Sincerely, Erin
