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*WARNING - - - - NON-SPORTS COLUMN AHEAD!!!!!!*
Let me start out by saying that I'm probably the biggest loser I know. I spend all my time playing video games and researching topics that would in no way help me toward graduating Summa Cum Laude. I recently spent upwards of four hours creating an all-star team on NCAA 06 of players since I've been alive. Yeah...it's that bad.
So it's no surprise that I'm astonished by what I'm about to tell you:
I have been dating my girlfriend for three years.
Here's the way I saw it: I would graduate college, finish my time in the guard, and get that first low-paying job. After skipping from state to state, I would finally settle down somewhere, probably now in my 30s, and buy a house. Once that's taken care of, I would worry about the dating scene. I imagined myself as getting married in my 30s and starting a family eventually. It's not the life I necessarily strived for, but it was a realistic depiction of my life in the next 15 years.
Some people would look at a 2-year activation in the Air National Guard as a setback, Lord knows I did at the time. But one thing did happen during those two years that I wouldn't trade going to school on time for the world.
When I was deployed to the Middle East, I had this disillusion that everybody back home was worried about me and was dying to know how I was doing. I worked and worked, unable to check my email or sign on to AIM. My time away from this technology led me to believe that my friends were all clammering about, talking about me.
I finally was able to get online after a weekend trip to a mall in Abu Dhabi. I checked through my email, and it was mostly junk mail. I signed onto my AIM account and sat back, just waiting for the dozens and dozens of Instant Messages to flood my screen. So I waited...and waited...and I think you know where this is going. After about ten minutes online, a familiar screenname signed on. A girl who I had a crush on in high school, but at this point had given up all hope to ever have her as my own, signed online. Immediately the IM popped onto my screen. The window shot so fast into my face that it made me spring back in my chair. How was I, is everything okay, and do I miss being home shot forth before I had a chance to say "hi."
Keep in mind that I had already wired my brain to see her as a member of the most dreaded group of girls that three words could ever describe: just a friend. I knew she had a boyfriend that she had been dating forever. I knew that the distance that kept us apart in high school was now ridiculously multiplied. I knew that I had nothing to offer her as a friend, let alone anything more. But the conversation continued on. We talked about everything. I lost myself in that computer screen until the group I was with tapped me on the shoulder to leave.
I couldn't get it out of my head. There were plenty of people online at the time, but why was she the only one to talk?
I served the rest of my time "over there" and returned stateside. Talking to her on the computer became almost a nightly ritual for me. We shared stories about high school, admitted our crushes, and finally she told me something that made me feel excited, terrified, and horrible all at once.
Her boyfriend cheated on her. They're through.
Let's cover the excitement first. Here's someone who already admitted that she had once had a crush on me. Now take the only roadblock between us out of the question in an emphatic style. The window of opportunity was not only open, but there were pies cooling on the windowsil.
So why would I feel terrified? Because I might actually have to go through with this! Do I dare make a move on the girl who I would have given a digit to be with in high school? A rejection would make things incredibly awkward, and after previous rejections with other girls, I was understandably gunshy.
That's when I felt horrible. Here was a girl who had grown to be one of my closest friend, and she was at her most vulnerable state since I had known her. She gave her heart to a guy who turned it back and said "this isn't good enough for me." I had been cheated on once before, and the feeling wasn't enjoyable. And now here I was planning my move? Who the hell was I to think I could swoop in and become Mr. Right? I would only be taking advantage of her vulnerability, which made me no better than a frat boy with a rufie.
So I played it cool. I got her talking about the relationship, getting her to open up and yet remain a safe distance away at the same time. There were only two things that could happen if I made my move then:
1. She would outright deny me for any one of reasons (You're too good of a friend, it's too soon, you're not my type). I know this because I had heard them all one time or another.
2. She would give me a shot, then I would fall prey to the rebound-guy curse and become just a stepping stone to her recovery.
So there I was. I had no idea what to do. I had more life experience than most of the guys my age, but I was clueless on how to handle this situation.
She made it easy.
A little conversation sprung into a full-blown here's-my-heart-and-all-my-weaknesses conversation that lasted upwards of four hours. Closer and closer we grew until the unthinkable phrase came from my fingers (we were talking online...yes I know I'm a loser). I asked her to see a movie.
So much for playing it cool. I was in over my head now, into foreign waters. This was the make-or-break move of the century. If we go to the movie and it bombs, I'm finished. If she refuses, I'm finished. If we go and it's a mediocre experience, I'm finished. But there was a gleaming ray of hope in the distance. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that we would hit it off on our first date and it would blossom into something more.
Well, here we are a full three years past that day...and she loves me. I don't know how I pulled it off, but I did it. The girl I wanted so badly in high school wants nothing more than to be with me...and I didn't even have to sacrifice a digit!
I guess I could have summed this really long blog down into a short paragraph like this:
Thank you so much for the best three-year span of my life. Every day without you is infinitely better than the best day without.
...but where's the fun in that?
I am eternally grateful for that shot, and I like to think that I've made the best of it. I can't thank you enough for the past three years and for you looking past all the dumbass things I've done. Every morning I pinch myself and expect to wake up three years prior and without you, but I don't. I saw a quote the other day from Eddie Vedder that sums up my situation:
"If hope can grow from dirt like me, it can be done."
Thanks for making a dirtbag like me feel like something special.
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