In Honor of Our 6-Year Anniversary, One Day Late

Every time someone asks us how we met, I tell the story with a few less details than the last time someone asked. Maybe because I'm tired of telling it, but maybe because I'm forgetting some incredibly insignificant details. Or seemingly so.

I've decided that the old-lady-me deserves to know all the details the young-me knew. I worry that if I don't get the whole story in writing sometime soon... it will one day just disappear and become some distant memory that I'm unsure is even truly a memory, or some movie plot, or book, or dream, or mixture of all four. I've already had that happen with my little-girl memories. I could have sworn I ran carefree down a slight incline of wild weeds and flowers regularly growing up. Nope. We never lived in a little house on a prairie. But see, when I'm really old, I may not be so deductive.

So here goes-- it's long, so either save yourself and check-out now, or pull up a seat... and some tissue (in case you're the kind that hates cheesy and you laugh so hard you spit or something.)

......................

I'd say it started with Ali... no maybe right before. With the boy before Ross, that broke up with me. It was bad for the ego... like he officially dumped me.... but good for the long run of course. I remember being so confused, especially because I'd been doing Body For Life. What? But at whatever rate, I was single. And decided it was time to enjoy that phase. I regret to say I was one of those girls that usually had a boyfriend. I've gotten to know college friends better through blogging and feel pretty jipped that I was too busy dating to get the full girl-friend experience in college. Anyway... tangent... so after not dating for a little while, I remember my friend Ali (a friend I'd had since the 6th grade that did NOT believe in settling) telling me it was time I pick the boy I wanted to date, instead of just dating whoever chose me. It was sort of empowering... like I could actually have just what I wanted?? So that's what was on my mind when I entered the Periodical Section that day. Well that and the fact that I really needed a nap.

So I went down the stairs to the Periodical section, walked through all the swiveling heads (not because they were looking at me, don't get me wrong, but because that is what happened on this floor of the library, it was like you were on a runway to get to the back of the library) to the big glass wall and the big comfy chairs in the back. I squished my two armed chairs together to form a little closed-in bed, took my shoes off, and snuggled in. I'm going to assume I didn't drool or snore, (or worse!) , or everything may have turned out dreadfully different.

When I awoke from my slumber is when I saw him. Sittin' there all cute and rosy-cheeked and broad-shouldered, studying away--- or at least pretending to. (It turns out he took stock of me before my nap, so knowing him now, I'm thinking he was pretending to read while he really read me from the corner of his eye. ;)) So I put my shoes back on, gathered my stuff for studying, and nonchalantly took a seat at his table.

I remember saying something funny about the nap as I sat down, I think.. this is where it gets fuzzy... Ross, do you remember the conversation?? I remember that I never read a word, that we whispered for the next 30 minutes or so until he asked for my number (which he says he'd never done before after just meeting someone and now that I know him I can imagine was TOTALLY out of his nature) and had to race off for a class... and here's where things got sticky.

As he stood up and raced off, I thought he looked short. Uh oh.

I'm like 5'10", and I'd dated short boys before, but I was on a mission remember? To find what I wanted. And if I could choose, I definitely wanted a tall boy that made me feel a little less like an amazon-woman and more like a lady. So I was a teensie bit deterred.

So he called some days later. I can't remember how many, but he asked me out for that Friday, and I was busy that Friday. He called a week or so later, always a little too late in the week because I was busy that Friday too... I remembered thinking, "why doesn't he just say, 'well how about Saturday? Or next Friday?' until we found a day," but he thought (as he told me later) that would seem far too desperate or pushy... so he just continued his weekly call for another week or two, until I'd managed to.... ahem.... get into a relationship. This time I had to tell him, "you took too long, now I'm dating someone."

I remember thinking it was totally his fault for not securing a date earlier, now I know my husband is NOT the pushy type. He likes to take his time making decisions. He likes to let things run their course. He is the relationship-sustainer at Morgan Stanley and not the closer. Thank goodness the sustaining part is what really matters in marriage right?

So that was all in November of 2001. I remembered thinking this boy I was dating was not going to last and I may have made a big mistake. I hadn't even gotten his last name! What if I never saw him again! I had no way of finding him on the stalker-net if I didn't have his last name! And then I ran into him and his brother Zach one day at the Cougar Eat when I went for my ginormous wrap and roll. I had him mention his last name. Biesinger. (i before e, accept after c.) I wrote it down.

March rolls around, I don't know why we didn't re-meet sooner than that since the semester started in January right? But he was a business major, I was a minor, so we both spent some time in the Tanner Building. I started seeing him here and there and I remember feeling relieved, like he was back in my life. I'd been given another chance. :) We'd shared a couple glances and smiles and passed each other on the stairs a few times. Then one day I remember walking down the stairs and seeing him sitting at the bottom with a newspaper (remember the pretending-to-read look in the library) well he was doing that SO much worse. I'd caught him glance up a couple of times but then as I got closer he kept his head unnaturally downward until the very last minute, then looked up with that little I-couldn't-lie-to-save-my-life accidental smirk and said all surprised-like ..."heyyyyyy."

And this is where I can almost say... and the rest was history.

but it wasn't quite yet.

Oh I forgot to mention, it turns out that while his 6'3", lean stature may have been a tiny bit dwarfed by my extra-large brothers and dad upon joining my family, he definitely wasn't short. We still argue over whether it was just my eyes or his corduroy pants or skate shoes that didn't do him justice....

So the dating started with now-married Matt and Lyndi, dinner at the Macaroni Grill, and The Johnny B. hypnotist show. It became exclusive pretty quickly and I still remember at the end of the semester when he went home for a week or so... I was bored out of my mind, empty, so sad and blah. Blah blah blah... like NOTHING was fun without him. I didn't look forward to anything or crave anything or laugh at much. Blah. I could have sworn I was perfectly happy before him. But not anymore. All I felt without him was blah. I remember my mom saying, "I think it's love."

It was.

But don't worry, I still made him say it first. But I may have seriously encouraged it with a deep and serious conversation of all the things I loved about him. He probably just used the trusty three words so he wouldn't have to come up with a long list in response. Oldest trick in the book.

At the end of the semester, he was going to travel the country for a summer job with Lowes and I was going to China to teach English. China fell through... I found plan B... nannying in Hawaii for an old friend of my dad. An old friend with a young co-worker that he hoped to get to join the church with a bit of blond bait.

(This is the part we usually don't tell in the story, but we're six years in and we can finally really laugh about it... and figure it was all part of the plan. Right Ross?)

But I will keep it short. I missed him miserably for the first 7 of the 9 weeks or so. Then got stupid and broke up with him over the phone so I could kiss the stupid boy in Hawaii. GASP! ( I know. Anyone who gave up on this long story a couple of paragraphs ago is really missing out right?) I know. But we were on a break!!!!!! So technical. This is one of those things in the journal where I lose track when I try to count my blessings.

I did of course come home from Hawaii sick and guilt-ridden. I'd convinced myself that I didn't need to tell him because we weren't going to be together anyway. But then he decided to stop by my house when we were both back in Provo and my heart stopped. What had I done?

I still tried to convince myself we weren't meant to be together, the drive-thru voice, the cell-phone-addiction, the corduroy pants he once wore... those were reasons it could never be, right? Plus I could NEVER get back together with him now.

A: That would mean I'd have to tell him about the boy, at which point he would probably paint a big red letter on me and throw me in that stinky Provo lake.

B: That would make me that girl that just can't be alone-- like I kissed the boy in Hawaii JUST because he was there (which was painfully true) and now I wanted Ross back because he was here. (Which turned out NOT to be true.) No, we could never get back together.

But then we went for a drive to the new house I was moving into with my girlfriends and sat on Sarah's bed (did you know that, Sarah?) where he begged for more of an explanation... none of it added up and he knew it. I finally dished. I was sure it would just make it easy for him to wipe his hands clean of me. But he forgave. I still remember how that felt. He was hurt and angry and took some time... but then said "is that why? Because I still love you." And there are few moments in my life where I felt as relieved and light and HOPEful as right then.

We still gave it some time. I think we even thought we'd try again after a break. But just a few days later I was outside of his apartment talking to my mom and sister in my car getting their approval that I was NOT just being a stupid girl, and I had indeed just made a HUGE mistake, and how on earth was I supposed to ever focus on anything in my life ever again if I didn't take care of this all-consuming need to BE WITH HIM!?? So I knocked on his door and told him. Told him I was an idiot, and in love, and had committed to NOT beg for him back unless I knew I wanted to marry him and here I was. I was ready. Whenever he was.

So we dated... and I waited... and he proposed in November on a cliff overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge.

NOW the rest is history.