I Found My Husband on the Internet
Once upon a time, I dated a cheap and emotionally distant jerk.
I dumped him. The End.
If only it was all that simple. I wasted three years on that loser. Finally, a
Sunday night dinner with my best friend (an already-committed man) got
me to realize that I had a far more intimate (non-sexual) and loving
relationship with my friend than the man I’d been hoping for. So I cut him off.
Anyway, I was thrilled to be on my own--I realized I was happier alone than involved with a loser. I had a man
in my life. A great man, with whom I could laugh, cry, talk, eat, drink, dance, and be merry. My writing was going
well, my new apartment was stunning, and the Midwestern city I’d inhabited for more than 15 years was finally
starting to feel like home. Life was grand.
My Little Brother Got Married Before Me? Oh My God.
Sitting in the cathedral alone at my brother's wedding was a real wake-up call. I was thrilled for them
(especially since I'd fixed them up) but a little embarrassed at being the old maid sister. When no one asked
me to dance at the reception, I felt devastated. Went home and sobbed.
After I dried my tears, I decided it was time to get back out there and try again. I'd already done the personals,
with disastrous results. Met a few net creeps, who disappeared the moment they got my photo. Dated a few
grad students at the university where I worked and went to school. “It’s slim pickings,” I wailed to my friends,
who were probably afraid of what I’d do next. Finally, I wrote a smart-assed but serious article about the perils
of love and popped it into a newsgroup for large people. One of my stipulations was that my dream guy had to
be under 40. Another rule--no married men! I listed 20 qualities I wanted in a man, figuring I might as well
spell out the impossible. “Not too particular, are you?” my friend asked, thinking I was nuts.
Of the 84 replies I got, just 12 were under 40 and unmarried. 12. One scrawny dozen. Eight of those singles
immediately launched into fantasies that would make Hugh Hefner blush. I mean, yuck.
Four possibilities remained. I cut two when I read their replies--it was clear they were not my kind of men. I
emailed the final two and the fun began. One guy was a caller, and we had lots of endless conversations. He
also was seriously looking for a lifetime relationship. However, he didn't drive, and I couldn't see explaining
that to my father.
The other guy, John, emailed a lot--short bursts, funny stories. Right off the bat, we agreed that it would never
work. We were 600 miles apart. He was in the Bronx, and I knew all about the Bronx, thank you. He’d
answered 18 out of 20 questions with a yes, then got to the last two (age and location) and hovered over the
delete key before deciding to just hit send.
But we kept trading emails for a few months--since we didn't have to impress each other, we were honest
about everything. And then a funny thing happened: he went to camp. (He's a teacher, so back then he worked
at a camp in the summer.) I realized I missed him. Weird, considering I really didn't know him. I was stunned
and thrilled to get his email when he got home. Hmmm.
We ambled on--and a few weeks later, he went away to Maine for a weekend. This time, he told me he'd make
sure he was in my thoughts while he was gone. When I got home from work that night, an enormous and
gorgeous arrangement of red roses was on my doorstep. I literally fell over. The card read New York is
wonderful in September. Come.
What am I Doing in This Plane?
Against all my better judgment, I let emotion take over. I love Edward Hopper, so when I heard most of his
paintings would be on special exhibit at the Whitney Museum, I had to go. Plus I was considering grad school
at Columbia. And, of course, I wanted to meet this man.
I booked the hotel, got the plane ticket, and agreed to let him meet me at the airport. He'd warned me that he's
Italian and would likely greet me with a big hug. But nothing could've prepared me for what happened. I saw
him as soon as I got to baggage claim--and I got sick. I literally had to turn around and walk away to keep
myself from throwing up. No, he wasn't a toad--quite the opposite, in fact. I just was overwhelmed. Finally I
made my way back, we both grinned, and he threw his arms around me.
And Then I Knew.
I was shaking like a butterfly, and only one thought was going through my mind. These are the arms of my
husband. Though we'd never discussed love or marriage, I was certain. This was it. That weekend was
magical--the very next day, he asked me to move to New York. Not without a ring and a commitment, I told
him. We spent the next two months flying back and forth nearly every weekend. We began looking for a house
in New York just weeks after we met--but I wasn't about to do anything until he asked me to marry him.
Daddy, This Is John.
One of John's rules was that he wouldn't ask until he'd met my parents. Since they were in South Carolina, I
was in Ohio, and he was in da Bronx, this was complicated. Finally, the calendar Gods smiled and we were
all together for Thanksgiving. The meeting went quite well, and then we drove to my grandfather's nursing
home for a family visit. While we were there, my grandfather put my hand in John's then closed his hands over
ours and beamed. Though he couldn't talk, his heart could speak and he gave us his blessing.
That night, John pushed a lovely platinum and diamond ring across the dinner table and asked me to be his
wife.
Our families reacted quite differently. His screamed with joy. My mother nearly fainted, and then said we were
adults and could do what we wanted. (She came around the next day, when he brought her flowers!) My dad
danced on the bed.
Two months after that, we were married. And this month, we'll celebrate ten years of marriage.
Happily ever after.
Yes, it's a lot of work, being married. And yes, that first year was unequivocally the most emotionally distraught
time of my life. Nothing could have prepared us for marriage. We came from entirely different backgrounds,
and our views on spousal roles were wildly different. Over time, we learned to compromise. We learned that
our vows meant more than the issues. And we learned how perfect life is when we're with a partner. Happily
ever after, thanks to the internet.
