For 4 months, we swapped divorce horror stories (looking back, he wins hands down), and chit chat about every day life. One time, after he left, the full time receptionist said to me, "oh, he'd be a good catch for you." Another time after he left, the Investment Representative came into the main office to talk about him. "What do you think about Greg?" he said. "He's a super guy." I'm sure I said I thought he was nice, and certainly handsome, and I remember Jim, the investment rep, smiling like a little kid. Was he trying to set us up? I wasn't quite sure. Honestly, though, with all that I had going on, even as much as I liked Greg, romance was the farthest thing from my mind. If he had asked me out during those first few months, I would have said no, not because of him, but because of me. But he didn't ask me out. We just talked.
I stopped working at Edward Jones in December and I didn't see Greg all winter. I thought about him from time to time, but I was so busy at school, with a new baby, just trying to stay afloat. Even though we lived two blocks apart in a small town, it wasn't until the following July that I ran into him. I was pushing Jacob in his stroller and Greg and his brother Rob were outside of Rob's house, returning from a fishing trip. Greg motioned with his head multiple times for Rob to get lost, but Rob, having been married for a while at that point, was clueless. He just stood there with us, smiling and nodding, and joining the conversation! Thankfully, Greg didn't let Rob keep him from asking me out. As the conversation began to lull, he said, "Hey, I just can't let another 7 months go by without seeing you again. Would you like to have dinner some time?" Aw. Now, how could I possibly say no to that? I gave him my phone number and walked away, smiling the whole way home.
Our first date was on a Tuesday night. I can still see him standing in my parent's doorway when he picked me up. He was wearing a gray, short sleeved button down shirt and jeans. He looked so handsome and so tall! The next morning my mom said, "Koelle, did you see how loose his shirt was around his waist? Do you know what that means?" Clueless as I can be, I said, "No, what?" "It means that he has broad strong shoulders and a flat stomach." "Mom!" was all I said. I couldn't talk about Greg's abs with my mother over morning coffee. It just didn't seem right...but I did think about it for a good long while afterwards!
Actually, I never stopped thinking about it, really. During those mundane every day tasks that don’t require a ton of concentration - doing the dishes, driving to & from work, folding laundry – I often let my mind wander to thoughts about his strong arms, his toned stomach, and his hands… Oh, I’ve always loved his hands. He has big, very masculine hands, calloused and rough from years of hard work, but still so incredibly gentle. They are a perfect analogy for Greg as a whole. That juxtaposition of rough yet tender is one of Greg’s most attractive attributes. He’s such a man’s man – loves sports, can fix just about anything, has a tough and dirty job – but when it comes to his family and friends, not just me, he is extraordinarily warm and sweet, and completely comfortable admitting his sensitivity. He is a hopeless romantic. He cries at chick flicks. He would drop everything instantly just to spend time with the people he loves. He adores his children. Goodness, who could ask for more from a man?
On our first date, we went to Off the Rak in Ebensburg for dinner and then out to The Castle for drinks afterwards. I remember watching him carefully remove all of the onions from his salad at dinner, and I appropriately followed suit. I remember he took longer in the bathroom than I did! (He still does. He pees forever.) I don’t remember what all we talked about, but I know I had a good time. What I very clearly remember, however, is the anxiety that set over me towards the end of our car ride home. “He took the onions off of his salad,” I thought. "Does that mean he is going to kiss me? Oh boy." I wasn’t sure I wanted him to kiss me. I mean, I wanted it, but I was so nervous. I hadn’t been kissed for almost 2 years at that point. I was terribly out of practice. What if I messed it all up and then he never asked me out again, because really, who wants to date a bad kisser? I don’t think I heard a word he said during the last five minutes of the drive, because I was overcome with my own nerves!
But he didn’t kiss me. He walked me to the door, hugged me, took my hands, looked into my eyes and said, “I had a great time. Can we do this again sometime soon?” He was such a gentleman. I closed the door behind me and watched through the window as he walked to his truck, simultaneously relieved to have escaped facing my worries and also eager to see this man again.
I don’t remember where we went on our second date, but I know he didn’t kiss me then either. It wasn’t until our third date that he mustered the nerve. We were sitting in his truck in the parking lot across the street from my house after returning from a hike at Canoe Creek. He looked at me and said, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while, but I’ve been too nervous to ask.” Then there was a long pause while he considered his words. Finally, with startling hesitancy, he asked, “Can I kiss you?” Of course I said yes. What I was thinking was, “What the hell took you so long?!” What I remember most about that kiss was the fact that Greg was so nervous he was actually trembling. I was shocked to literally feel his anxiety, because up until that point, he always appeared to be so smooth and calm. I wish I had known all along how nervous he was, because honestly, it put my tension to shame! It was during that kiss when I caught my first glimpse of Greg’s depth. No one had ever kissed me like that before. I had never felt so many emotions wrapped into just a minute’s worth of contact. It was the fairy tale kiss teenage girls dream about, the one that I didn’t believe truly existed, narrowly lingering on my very own lips. When I think about it now, I can still taste it, still feel the power of it coursing through me. Yeah, it was that good.
Eight years later, with 5 years of marriage behind us, the nerves have subsided, but his kiss is still just as sweet. In fact, in many ways, it’s even sweeter. We have weathered a few storms. There are times when Greg makes me absolutely nuts. There is no one, besides maybe my mother, who can piss me off more easily than Greg. I’m sure he would say the same (perhaps even more so) about me. That’s OK, though. In fact, it’s actually a good thing. No one has a perfect marriage. If you fight fair, keep an open mind, admit your failures and most importantly, sincerely apologize for your mistakes and forgive the mistakes of others, those little bumps can be wonderful learning experiences. We really don’t fight all that often, but I can say that just about every argument we have had, we have eventually used as a chance to understand one another better and to grow a little together. And we always kiss and make-up.
Each day when I wake up, one of my first thoughts is how blessed I am to have Greg in my life. He leaves for work well before I get up most days, but we still send each other a daily good-morning text, just a little note to say, “Hello. I love you. Have a good day.” At some point every afternoon we do it again – send a kiss through the wire. The most cherished part of my day, at least as far as my marriage is concerned, is each night when we climb into bed together, and snuggle up tight. I love the comfort and security of his arms more than anything else. I love that this man loves me, and I love that I get to kiss him goodnight - tonight, tomorrow and for years to come.
