It was a very weird moment. It seems like a forever ago, even though it has only been... what? Seven years? I had never, up to that point, ever allowed myself to admit in my head or even think that I truly liked a boy. This sounds less weird when you realize that, for me, this admission of liking someone simultaneously declared, "I will marry him one day."
I know there are many reasons [large and small, ridiculous and sensible] why I never let myself acknowledge liking someone, but chief among them was just the common sense factor of, "I can't see myself marrying him, so I cannot, must not, really like him like him. Don't be a dumb girl." [One of my biggest social motivators is to not be a "dumb girl." And in order not to offend the world of females, I will not go into more details about what qualifies as Dumb Girl-isms.] So, that was really my measuring stick for evaluating fellows, and no one, up to that point, had yet passed the test.
There were two key moments that February 4, 2007. First, Peyton Manning won the Super Bowl. And second, I realized a boy had unknowingly satisfied all of my criteria for the "I like a boy and will marry him one day" test. Unfortunately, due to the second moment, I completely missed the first moment. Long-term, though, I suppose it was worth it.
I am glad that my way of approaching relationships did not scare Jason off from the get-go. I am glad we were already such good friends. I am glad all of our late night/early morning AIM chats had occurred, even at the expense of my sleep. I am glad he seemed to not only be able to take but also seemed to enjoy my incessant poking and picking and needling and pestering. And mostly, I am glad he did not think it ridiculous that admitting to myself that I liked him meant that I wanted to marry him. Instead, he decided it was a grand idea, and he married me.
I'm lucky to have found a man who wasn't afraid of my all-in-or-nothing approach to "dating." The very night we admitted to each other that we liked each other, I asked him how many kids he wanted to have. Marriage was a foregone conclusion. I liked that. I never had any doubts. I never had any anxiety. It just was to be.
So, here we are, four score and seven years later [minus four score]. It is February yet again, and yet again, Peyton Manning will be playing in the Big Game. I wish so badly for him to win, if only so the Seahawks lose [sorry, Seattle has just come across to me as an annoyingly cocky/arrogant team]. But, win or lose for the Broncos, it doesn't really matter. I still have Jason, the only man I have ever truly liked, and the only one man enough to put his pants on two legs at a time.