Blue (Aquamarine)

I met my husband on March 12, 2005. I know this because I kept a written record. I kept a record for two reasons. One: Dating in the traditional sense was something I had never tried, and I wanted to take notes. I had always considered my relationships to be more like fluid, more organic, just happening, and ending disastrously. I wanted to try this one with terms of my own making, and one of those terms involved how many dates I would go on before I called this man mine. I had to take notes to remember them. Two: Despite my rationale, I knew this man would be my husband as soon as I saw him. I didn't believe it at first, but I knew it. Why wouldn't I keep a record?

So the record shows today, March 13, 2010, to be the fifth anniversary of my first date with my husband. On this night five years ago (I believe it was a Sunday) I went to meet this big, strong, bold man who'd asked me out for coffee, even though he didn't drink it. We actually ended up having tea at the Little City coffee bar on Congress Avenue downtown. We talked for maybe two hours. He found out that I was a college student. I found out that he was a self-proclaimed uber-geek. We learned that we shared a love of Led Zeppelin. I thought he was sweet and respectful. He thought I was sweet and cute. He walked me to my car and didn't even try to kiss me. We parted with a hug, and I went home thinking nothing would become of it, probably because he didn't even try to kiss me. But he had my number, and I had his, and when he called to ask me on a second date, I happily accepted.

Sugar's Note: Two weeks later, on date number three, he finally kissed me.