Yesterday was December 4th, one of the three dates John and I place on a little memorial pedestal. We have both described how we met, and I've mentioned some of the circumstances that paved the way for our marriage. December 4th, though, was like the seal on a secret, hopeful little package we were putting together piece by piece.
I was thrilled to be hearing from him so much, and I thought (hoped) the feeling might be mutual, but I couldn't be sure. He lived in Atlanta, after all, and I in Baltimore, so surely nothing could happen. Was he just suddenly a great friend? Was he worried? Or...was what I sensed really there.
December 4th was the beginning of the end of those questions. I was dressed to go out that night, dancing I told him, in boots and a short skirt. He was at dinner with friends in Atlanta, emboldened by his martini, ordering char, and texting me the whole time. I went to hear a friend sing and couldn't stop checking my phone for John. More texting. He accused me of being coy and alluring. I didn't deny it.
Somehow we both knew that night. We were in.
The next couple of weeks were full of flirtatious banter about whether we might spend NYE together in Atlanta (background music below), though he was going to be in Kansas City. Instead, we had our first date on January 4th, one month later, and that was it.