The Long Awaited Approach

“Finally.” She thought to herself. “Tuesday night is here again.”

She looked forward to Tuesday nights. Tuesday nights got her through the week. Tuesday night was ‘Pool Night’. Time for her to hang with her guy friends and be a self-proclaimed pool groupie. Whether she was headed to Good ol’ Days, Cheers, Diggers or Whiskers Pub – wherever the game took place on Tuesday night, she was there to watch them play.

She had fun hanging with her two guy friends, but her eyes were mainly gazed in the direction of the tall and silent stranger. Also on the pool team, he always hung back from the crowd. He was mysterious. He was handsome. He was tall. And, she was nervous every Tuesday night, wondering if she would see him. Pool night wasn’t the same, if the tall stranger wasn’t there to play.

She inquired to her friends about him, but he was a mystery to them, too. “He doesn’t talk much.” One of her guy friends said. “But, he is a great pool player.” She agreed. He took his time with each and every shot, landing more balls in the pocket than not.

Weeks passed, and she continued to watch him from afar. She told her girlfriends about him, and she dreamed about him. Too nervous to approach the tall and handsome stranger herself, she hoped he’d one day reach out. She hoped he’d one day notice her, the way she noticed him.

Another Tuesday night and she was headed to Dos Copas. And, like every Tuesday night, she had butterflies in her belly, anxious to find out whether or not her handsome stranger would be playing. She walked into Dos Copas and smiled, as she noticed him standing by the pool table, getting ready to play.

While getting a beer, her friend grabbed her. He was having a bad night. Girlfriend issues. He wanted to get her feedback on what had taken place earlier in the day. When it was his turn to play pool, he did not do well. His bad pool game made his already bad mood worse. He stormed out to the patio, and she followed him. Suddenly, someone stepped in front of her.

“Hi. My name is Rob.” She looked up, startled. It was him. It. Was. Him! The tall and handsome stranger had approached her! What should she do? His eyes were so blue. Her legs became weak, as she lost herself in his blue eyes… She shook her head and tried to snap herself back to reality. She did her best to compose herself . She took a deep breath, and she responded to him.

Four years later, she stopped talking long enough for him to ask her to marry him. 8yrs later, she’s still talking, and he’s still with her.

:::

The past 8yrs have been far from complacent and peaceful. My husband and I have had our good times and bad times. Unfortunately, we seemed to have more bad times than good times; and admittedly, the bad times were due (mostly) to my own low points. However, with the help of friends, family, medication and counseling, Rob and I have made it 8yrs. And, because we made it through some horribly horrible times, I am confident we’ll make it the rest of the way – together.

Once I asked him how long it took him to notice me back during the pool playing days. He told me he noticed me instantly. He said he couldn’t get over how much I talked. Apparently, while standing alone in the corner, he could see (and hear) I was a talker. 12 years later, I haven’t changed.

Rob balances me. While my mind races from one point to another to another, Rob can always be found stationary and stable. He is my geostationary satellite. I am thankful this tall and handsome stranger approached me. And, I am thankful I stopped talking long enough for him to ask me to marry him.

We’ve made through some rough and rocky roads, and I suspect we’ll have a few more bumps along the way. Much to my dismay, Rob is still not perfect. And, much to Rob’s dismay, I am still talking. (Okay, okay – I’m not perfect either. ‘Whatever’.) But, we are each other’s forever after, and I am so glad he didn’t leave when I asked him to leave. And, I am glad he asked me to stay, when I said I was leaving.

Happy Anniversary, Rob. I love you.