Ten years ago, I boarded a plane, and flew to a place that I never dreamt about going to. Ohio. Because, really on this Cali girl's list of things to do, Ohio wasn't on there. Not that there is anything wrong with Ohio, it's just that, Italy and Hawaii take precedence over Ohio. All I knew of the place was that they had cows, and country cooking. That they bowled, ran, played volleyball, basketball and had subway. Also, Ohio had my heart.
There was this boy. This boy who in his Midwestern way, silly laugh, teasing words, had charmed his way right into my life. Via emails, phone calls, chat rooms. He was someone with who I could share my day, frustrations, celebrations, and jokes with. I had boyfriends, friends and a life he only knew about through emails, and chats, but he was always right there, the first person I could talk to, any time of day. We exchanged pictures, letters, he sent me flowers, gifts, even a video, showing me where he lived, what he did. We were young. I could have just laughed, tossed it in the trash, and ran out to spend my days with boys who were surfing, and more so, were in my own time zone. But I didn't. There was something about him, so captivating, that anything else wasn't so appealing anymore.
So I met him. Jumped on a plane and showed up. He was there, with his hat on backwards, jeans and striped polo shirt on. Very Abercrombie and Fitch, Midwestern hip. He had this smile, this huge butterfly inducing smile. I walked toward him, and I knew. He gave me a hug and in that moment, that fairytale, movie magic moment, the tingling sensation swept from my head to my toes, and settled in my heart. This was it. I was looking at my forever. My happily ever after. The father of my babies, stealer of my heart and my best friend. I knew he was The One before I ever went to meet him, but truly seeing him, touching his hand confirmed everything my heart already knew. He once sent me a letter, a few months before I went to Ohio, it was a single paged, pencil written letter. I have carried a part with me always, because it defines our story. Our story in a world where Internet dating was taboo, off, and anything but normal.
"It's late at night as I write this. I don't know much, about anything. I don't know what we're doing, or where we are going to end up. I don't know what this feeling is, but I do know this:
That I don't ever want it to stop."
Ten years ago today. He still writes me cards. He still has that smile. The weak-kneed, sweaty palm, am- i -dreaming smile. I have fallen in love with him over and over.
He's still The One. And that feeling has never stopped.