A Valentine's Day Tale...or how I ended up with MrGrumpy...

ScreamingMeemie

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Mon Feb-14-05 12:00 PM
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A Valentine's Day Tale...or how I ended up with MrGrumpy...

Edited on Mon Feb-14-05 12:02 PM by MrsGrumpy

12 was a wonderful age, if your name wasn't Laura, and your dad hadn't just gotten transferred (again) from Wisconsin to Michigan. 12 year olds in Wisconsin played with baby dolls still...12 year olds in Michigan played with make up and boys. I still remember walking into that great waxed floor prison that was to cause me much trouble and little happiness over the next two years.

Everyone seemed so much older than I with my scrubbed clean face and corduroys. This was the age of Jordache and Jelly bracelets; I owned neither. Yet, there was this one kid, sitting right behind me, in his flannel shirt and Levi's (before Levi's became a "name") who seemed to be kind of like me...a misfit...only he seemed happy about it. Where desks were paired together, he sat alone. When notes were passed, he either slept or read a book. His name was Leonard, he sat behind me, and I never really thought about him that much except for the day of the pizza party when I gave him my leftover pizza. Later I was to find out it was the worst year of his life as well...perhaps a fleeting meeting of two future soul mates.

Flash forward to high school. I'd gotten properly acquainted with makeup and fashion (parachute pants and shoulder pads at this point) and was really good at "ratting" my hair. Guys liked me...I liked them liking me...but didn't really want to hang out with them. I was...shhhh...a tease. I remember walking behind this kid named Leonard with my best girlfriend. We were making gagging noises and reference to PDA's because he had his hand in the back pocket of her jeans. Gross. (I kind of wanted to be her)...

Graduation, parties....and yes, running into Leonard one more time. Upstairs at C.J. Barrymores in the pool room. I saw him leaning back on a bar stool, hair slicked back, black leather biker jacket with the general's stars (now a beloved possession of our daughter). He came over. We talked, and went out to breakfast...and so began our "real" relationship. When I was 18 and he a month behind.

He was so handsome with his strong jaw that couldn't keep whiskers away for more than an hour and a half, and his hands--the hands that could easily change oil, clean his Dad's house, or rub my back very capably. He was the perfect boyfriend...except...

....he was too polite....I wanted a rock and roll bad boy and he only looked like one...

.......and so.....

......I dumped him, and my family was heartbroken.

Now let's skip and pretend that the next 4 years (bad relationship, child, hardship) haven't really happened...and I am still young and fresh and innocent. By chance, I get invited to a party at an old friend's. I am nervous, but I go anyway. As I knock and wait, I hear cowboy boots walking along the floor coming toward the door. It couldn't be, and yet it is. I am sick, and flustered, and happy, and unsure all at once. Here is Leonard again. Fresh from his own heartbreak and needing a friend, just as I was.

And so began 1 year of friendship, 3 years of crazy, exciting love, 9 years of contented married love (with a lot of craziness thrown in on nights when the kids are asleep), one adoption, one baby, two cats, three dogs, a house, some heartbreak, much happiness, and a forever to plan together.

I just thought I'd share why it is I'm walking around with a smile on my face today. For those who think it will never happen to them, never say never. A decade and a half ago, I thought I was going to live out the rest of my life alone and in a trailer... Things change. :loveya:

Happy Valentine's Day