Tuesday, April 13, 2010

All good things come in 3's..wait..right?


Let's face it..it'd just be mean to have this fully written post sit here in my drafts, for sooo long while like, 2 of you are dying to know what happened next..
Thus I present.. Installation Part 3, of How I met Your Father


Part one.
Part two.

So  Mike & I began our romance.
It was Christmas time, maybe 5 days before, to be exact, as we began dating.
I was driving to work, on a bad Winter's day, when my car hit black ice. I spun & came to a rest, on the side of the road, in the front yard/sidewalk area. You know that moment, if you've been in a car accident, before, where your heart is still catching up to nearly thumping out of your chest, right?
That's when I saw an SUV hit the same ice, behind me & slide directly towards me.
I could see the passengers mouth saying "stop stop!" and the drivers mouthing "I CANT!"
As I closed my eyes, they hit directly into my door.
The next few seconds are a blur, as I tried to grasp what was going on & dial 911, I heard the sirens blare from around the corner, as EMS raced to the scene.

I called Mike, breathless & in shock, before I even called my mom, or insurance company. He hopped in his Jeep, to rush out & save me.

EMS pulled up & I had a movie moment, as I watched Mr. Firefighter race to get me out of the car.. Hey, I was dating someone, not dead.
I watched as he raced to the car, breathless to check if the injured parties were OK in his handsome line of duty-ness (haha, duty-ness!!!)..
He opened the side of the car that wasn't plowed into, asked if I was ok & upon asserting the situation, he took off his helmet.

Dude looked like Bozo.
I'm talking red corkscrew curls. If I'd had a boner, it would have wilted like lettuce in the hot summer sun..

That's just a good story..I like to share it when possible.
It really has nothing to do with Mike & I, other than that for the next eternity, of his life, he has to hear me say "SLOW DOWN! Fuck, where are my Valium?!??!" while we're on the highway.

The next day, Christmas, I followed my Mom & dad, driving in their car, with their other car & rear ended my dad. It was a tiny fender bender, truly.

Two days later,Mike & I pulled up to my moms house, after a hung over night at the local Hilton ( Mike was still new to town, remember? He was apartment searching & hey.. we were adults. Car's only go far.. besides, your not supposed to get drunk in cars. Duh) I remember seeing my smashed car, waiting on the street, to go to the body shop & asking "Wait..was there red paint there before?"
No..the recycling truck hit my parked car that morning while I was gone.

Awesome.

That's the story of the time my car got hit 3 times in a week.. I have another story about it getting hit while I was parked in it, and the day I got it back, my moms neighbor backed into it, parked.
Seriously..this car was trying to kill me.

Again..none of this really has to do with Mike, but, how often do I get to tell these stories? Not often.. Deal. 


I'd like to take a moment to say now.. Some of you are going to be like "damn.. your mean" and some of you might be like "Boo you whore"
However, this post is not for you to pass judgment on what a whorish bitch I was, it's for me to tell the story of how my husband ended up married to me, the whorish bitch of his dreams.
Kay?

Mike & I had a fast & furious romance. I basically moved in with him, once he got an apartment. I cooked & cleaned, we both worked. We drank wine by the gallons & had lots of sex, drugs & rock & roll. Then one day for some crack head reason I don't know, I went back to my ex.

This involves a long, messy story, involving me dumping Mike, while we were both drunk, at 3am, then fighting, and as I attempted to storm out of the place, during our argument, one of my vases broke. Seriously, I was moving stuff, as to likely pack it & leave, and it shattered.
A neighbor called the cops. There was no beating going on, and they quickly saw that & left.Which I now think is hilarious, but at the time, likely wasn't.

Believe me, it was a long night, and an even crappier few days after. I don't think either of us were in a "good place" due to both coming out of pretty bad relationships & this break up, was a drunken shock to both of us.

I resumed what had been a prior, two year relationship.I now know, that I was a young girl with a lot of issues & that relationship was something that was so addictive, abusive & bad. I guess I wasnt mentally, or emotionally prepared to break it fully off. I was easily manipulated by him & stupidly went back to what I had known, and been in, for so long.
I saw Mike to drop some things off & we just didn't talk for a few weeks. I guess? I don't really remember.
I was with douche bag &things were back to normal, soon enough.I found myself no longer able to tolerate what a dick he was to me. I'd think "Mike used to give me a massage, every night, when we'd get out of the shower.. " or "Mike did..." I'd had a taste of the good stuff & this douche just wasn't cutting it anymore. When he was all "sorry I'm going to disappear on a 3 day coke binge but when I get back I'll pretend things are still normal, and you'll forgive me" I was like "uh..no"

I found myself realizing that everything Mike did, I loved & I missed.. ...He was the first guy I'd likely ever been with who actually cared about me, what I wanted, or what was nice for me.. I missed it, and him!!

Somewhere a long the lines, I told my ex it was done & sort of suggested Mike & I pick things back up, causally.. which I think basically just meant I really liked being with him & around him, but I didn't want the commitment, sort of.. well, I wanted it on his part.. I just wasn't too sure about mine!
I worked & had fun & went out at night & wanted all the perks of a relationship, with out the commitment.

I doubt that worked too well for Mike, but shortly there after, he got a call from his step father, back home in Florida. He had been diagnosed with Lou Gerigs disease. Mike needed to come home, his family needed him.

I remember him hanging up the phone, us sitting on the balcony & be thinking "wow.. well...hm..peace out" as I mentally wondered what I'd do when he left.. Go back to my ex, I guess.. School would be out in a few weeks.. Huh..this was all coming out of the blue!

I know, what a bitch right??

Mike of course, asked me to go with him. He loved me, he knew &knew he wanted to be with me. He'd all but told me, I know I want to be with you, come with me, I have every intent to marry you..
I, on the other hand, was working, in my third year of college & uh, I'd only known Mike for about 5 months now, I certianly wasn't going to move across the country with a guy I barely knew, mostly liked for the conversation,sex, and fun, and sure as hell wasnt going to move in with some family drama..

I basically thought, fuck that & I guess we'd just hang out & enjoy the time together, before he left!

A week later, I found myself looking at Mike & thinking "..I don't want to never see him again!"

It all seemed to hit me at once.
Wow, this is what its like to have one of those "good guys" girls always hear about..
What am I doing, not giving him, and MYSELF a chance, to be treated right??"

PhotobucketWe went out for lunch & while talking, over margaritas about Mikes move & the thought of me going, a woman turned from the booth behind us & said "Do it, what do you have to lose? You can move back."

And like that, we looked at each other... and I said "Lets do it.. I want to go with you."
I said a final good bye, not only to friends & family, but to the person I was & made a choice to jump for love, or what I hoped, could be love.

Two weeks later, after knowing Mike for exactly six months, we packed 2 animals & 2 cars, as full as possible & hit the road..
Next stop?
Florida, Baby! 3,200 miles from home.

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