Four years ago on this night, I had my first date with Jack. He took me to a lovely Italian restaurant in Pontchatoula, then took me dancing, then out to the lakefront where we sat and talked for a long time, and then we went back to his apartment… where his ex-girlfriend was waiting in his bedroom for him.
Needless to say, he didn’t get any action that night. From either of us.
Fortunately, I decided to go out with him again (since, up until that point at his apartment I’d had a really wonderful time with him!)
About six weeks later he asked me to marry him. About three months later we moved in together. And six months and sixteen days after we first went out, we got married. A few months after that we decided to try having a baby. In January I found out that I was pregnant. In February we lost that baby. In August I found out that I was pregnant again. The next April Anna arrived.
It’s been a pretty awesome run with this guy. The past four years have had their ups and downs, but in all the time we’ve been together, Jack has never once said a deliberately hurtful thing to me. He does his very best to support me and my dreams, he utterly dotes on Anna, and he’s a darn good partner to go through life with.
I sure do love this man.
(The funny thing is that we usually forget to celebrate our wedding anniversary, but we always remember the anniversary of our first date, and that has become the important date to us.)