That's not entirely true, I guess. I got my first double call today in Moscow from a dear friend who looks after me while Hubs is gone. For those of you who don't know what the double call is, it's a technique I've used with friends and my mother to signal emergencies. Let's face it. With the invention of Caller ID, we all ignore some calls if they're not convenient or you don't have the time for what you know will be a long catch-up sesh. But if the caller immediately calls back (the double call...) then you have to pick up. At the risk of past bosses finding this out, I have excused myself from some really important meetings because of the double call and only a handful of times has it not been worth it. But I only have one friend with enough attention-seeking issues to abuse it and I won't say his name or the bar he manages in Corpus Christi in order to respect his privacy.
Contrary to what some people may think, I don't lounge in bed all day. But today, thats all I wanted to do. We're almost done with week four of Hubs being gone and it's getting a little rough. To make matters worse, he hasn't had phone reception since Monday, so I don't even get to hear that goofy laugh, witty one-liners, or tender, loving voice. I miss it all.
I have to interject now and let everyone know that, no joke, Coldplay "The Scientist" (you know, "nooooooobody saaaaaaaid it was eeeeeeeeasaaaaaayyyy...") song just came on in the coffee shop we're sitting in. I can't make this stuff up. I would cry, but there are too many Coldplay jokes out there to not crack a smile.
Anyway, the double call wasn't an emergency for my friend, it was for me. I'm still not sure if she knew that I was moping or not, but had she not called again, I probably would not have left my bed. But I don't have to describe what being sad and staying in would have looked like. We've all done it.
Instead, I want to talk about Hubs. I want to laugh and remember instead of be sad and wait for him to get home. Here recently, I've been sharing our wild love story to a lot of people I've met. I don't mind, in fact I love telling the story and every time I remember a detail I had forgotten and it takes me back to a time so recent but, having come so far in such a short time feels like forever ago. So here's our story. Some of you have heard it, some of you are a part of it, some of you are in for the surprise of your life when you hear it. But I do believe that you will all love it.
When I met Hubs the first time, it was through mutual friends and he was actually dating someone that I knew. We didn't talk, just a quick introduction and that was it. Fast forward about three years and there were are at a bar, with quite a few different mutual friends. I was freshly out of a relationship and had decided that I would never date, much less marry. I didn't have too much longer before I turned 30 and would be labeled a Career Girl rather than a confused 20-something who can't seem to hang on to a man. So when a tall, handsome man walked in, I purposely ignored him. How cliche, right? Like I should instantly like this guy because he was significantly taller than me? Whatever. Ignore. But he recognized me and says, "hey, I know you." And then he walked off. Oh boy. Where did this guy know me and what embarressing thing had I done to make it memorable? I wish I could say this was the first time this kind of thing had happened, but I had already learned that people will remember the crazy things the lanky tall girl does, whether she notices them or not. And my friends know exactly how to convince me to do stupid things.
Once I mustered the courage to ask him how he knows me, and the relief that came with it not being embarressing for me, we hit it off. We chatted every now and then and I gave him my number. I will swear till the day that I die that I gave him my number because I thought we would be friends. Not that it mattered, he didn't call me anyways. Not for an entire month. And the only reason he did was because he was talking about me to ANOTHER mutual friend (how we didn't meet sooner is beyond me...), our friend put it together, made some texts, which I played very uninterested (he didn't call me for goodness sake!) and THEN he called and we made plans for dinner the next night. Our first date was a Friday night. I found this incredibly strange. Who plans a first date for a Friday? I mean, if ot goes bad, you've wasted a good going out night. And you can't use the "I have to be up early for work" excuse. But that's Hubs, he doesn't think like that. The idea that our first date could be a train wreck didn't even cross his mind. It sounds so silly but it's the Friday Night Date concept that started to get my somewhat jaded heart ready for loving him.
We talked for hours, then an impromtu trip to the dance hall. Which led to planning a second date wade fishing. Yep, wade fishing. For those of you who know what people look like when they're wade fishing, you can understand what a bad choice for a second date this was. But, I had decided with this one that I would be myself to a complete fault. And the quicker he could see me without makeup, and not being a fan of mornings, the quicker we would know if we're just wasting each others time. He picked me up at 6am, I wore the rubber waders in the form of oversized overalls and out we went into the water. I baited my own hook without any help while still squealing every time I thought a shrimp was going to attack my hand as I was goin in. And silence. We just fished. We didn't need to talk and fill time with empty conversation but we learned that we each love outside. We love birds and sun and water and all the noises that come with it, we don't need to muddy it up with talking just to talk.
Not that we didn't talk ever. It seemed that when we made plans to meet for lunch or dinner, we would need to block off at least two or three hours because there was always a story to tell or laugh about and getting to know each other was so fun. Hubs is an easy person to talk to because he oozes honesty. That little part of his brain that should tell him, "hey that story probably won't impress the ladies..." just doesn't exist and I love that.
Hubs instantly adapted to my off-beat group of friends, our weird hours, even weirder jokes and affection for spontaneous karaoke. You always know where you stand with him, which makes it near impossible not to like him. And he routinely sided with my buddies in our famous shit-throwing battles (proverbial, not literal...) which also helped his likeability. I could go on and on and on about the small qualities that I saw in those early months that Hubs and I were dating. Little did I know that I would later eat my speech about taking things slow and not jumping straight into talking about marriage. Because just under four months to the day of our first date, we were engaged. And the only reason it wasn't a month earlier was because he had to order the ring...
And those little things that impressed me so much about his character have turned out to be on a much larger scale than I imagined. Which is exactly whats keeping us so happy here so far away from home. If it weren't for his laughter and humor, our story about buying buttermilk instead of milk would have had a different ending. If it weren't for his super social awareness powers, our attempts at guessing what the Russian means without actually knowing Russian would probably have us in a Siberian prison. If it weren't for his thoughtfulness, I would probably cry myself to sleep every night being so far away from home. If it weren't for his easily talked into an adventure spirit we would never have been crab hunting, exploring random cities, dancing in a Russian night club, or a whole host of other crazy things we've tried. If it weren't for his kind heart, we wouldn't be blessed tenfold that kindness by way of friendships old and new. And if it weren't for the combination of all those things, on top of the added qualities like honesty, compassion, hard work, dedication, and enormous capacity to love it wouldn't be near as exciting as it is to look forward to the adventures that will come in the next fifty years. I miss you so much, honey. Come home to me soon.
Cheers.
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