Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Valentine's Day...a year later

Yesterday, when Nathan was driving us to dinner, it occurred to me that I wrote a blog post on Valentine's Day of last year. This, I believe, is the beauty of blogging consistently--you get forced to keep a diary, albeit a public one. The blog post was called Valentine's Woes.

You can read the post if you're interested, but to sum up, at that point last year I was feeling down, frustrated and annoyed by the men I was dating. I wanted something more substantial. On the other hand, I didn't really believe that I could meet a man who would tolerate my cookie-dough-eating, Gilmore Girl watching self. And then I met Nathan.

This guy.

And I fell in love.

We met a week before I was leaving Richmond. My bags were packed. My apartment was bare. And I decided to go out for a drink. One last night at my favorite bar.

I walked into the bar with no make-up, flip-flops and tentative plans to meet a friend. Instead, I met Nathan sitting in a room with a group of his friends. I thought he was cute so I decided to sit across from him and say hello. We started talking and we couldn't stop. For some reason, I felt comfortable voicing all of my weird thoughts--omen names, special numbers, food quirks--and the crazy thing was he totally got it. In fact, he even had his own set of bad omen names.

We ended up going dancing and he walked me back to my apartment. We must have sat and talked on my front stoop for hours until I finally made him go home. Honestly, I thought I would never see him again. I didn't tell him I was moving in five days.

Unknown to me, when Nathan was walking home, he ran into the friend I was supposed to meet that night. They got to talking. Nathan told this guy, T, about the amazing girl he had just met. And T told Nathan about the amazing girl he had just stood up. When they both stumbled over my Greek last name, they realized they were talking about the same girl.

And before you think this is too great a coincidence, remember this happened in Richmond--a very small city where everyone knows everyone.

Anyway, T told Nathan I was moving.

Two days later, Thursday night, I was supposed to meet Nathan at his restaurant for dinner, and I didn't show up. Why not? Honestly, I've racked my brain over this a million times. The best I can come up with was this: I was exhausted from a long week, I was moving in two days, and I didn't really want to start something new. Anyhow, I didn't show up for our date and I thought it was over with Nathan.

But Nathan didn't give up so quickly. On Saturday night, a hurricane swept through Richmond, leaving much of the city without power. I was holed up in my apartment, reading by candlelight and cursing the weather gods that had delayed my move. And then, over the sound of the wind and swaying trees, at about 10 p.m., I heard this voice calling my name. At first, I figured I was hearing things. Or else someone was calling for another Katie. But the voice kept getting louder and louder.

So I stepped out of my apartment and peered over the banister, and asked who it was. And the voice said, "It's me, Nathan. Do you want to come out and play in the hurricane?"

And for some reason, I very much did. I threw on a dress and flip-flops and hurried out of my apartment. As soon as I got down the stairs, there was Nathan, smiling at me. I told him I was moving the next day, and he already knew. He just wanted to spend some time with me.

We had the most amazing night, walking around the deserted city, hanging out with his friends, and then sleeping next to each other on my uncomfortable twin-sized air mattress. I remember the next morning, I woke up and walked to 7-eleven and bought our first breakfast, coffee with cream and sugar, plain doughnuts and bananas. We sat in the sunshine on my balcony and just enjoyed each other.

Yet, I still moved out of the apartment in Richmond that same morning. In fact, Nathan helped me pack up my remaining stuff, on his birthday, no less. But then I was back visiting him in Richmond the following weekend. Two weeks after that, I moved in with him. And two months after that, we got engaged.

And now we've been together for nearly six months. And, as sappy as it sounds, each day is more magical. He is the love of my life, the most amazing person I've ever met. I can't believe how lucky I got. And how lucky I still am.

1 comment:

  1. Love your story! (and what a great contrast to last year's story...)