Ten Years

At this moment, ten years ago today, I was just about as close to homicidal as I've ever been. The subject of my murderous fantasies was the man that I'd just married. We stood in a beautiful park, surrounded by family, married by a friend with a print out from Yahoo wearing an ill-fitting judges robe. The road leading up to the moment had been fraught with my soon-to-be husband's... well, idiocy. Let's just call it what it was. Down to the fact that he had to borrow socks because he'd lost his and I'm pretty sure he was wearing three day old underpants.

I was so unbelievably frustrated by almost every thing he did (or didn't) do that I pretty much just wanted to throttle him. Really, like... wrap my hands around his neck and bang his head on the wall until there was some sense knocked into him.

The feeling didn't subside the next day, either when he decided to leave me - alone - in a very expensive hotel room to  hang out with his bros. (A bottle of red and a viewing of Waiting to Exhale later he arrived at the room to find the door locked and deadbolted.)

It wasn't an auspicious beginning to a union. However, as much as I really wanted to clobber him (or at least the satisfaction of smacking him repeatedly with my purse a la Ruth Bussey) I never for a second doubted that I wanted to be married to this man.

Our first night together - it wasn't really a date as it was after bar at my house, we stayed up until the sky turned from black to gray and all the stars were extinguished, talking about what it was like to lose our fathers. At 24, I didn't know many people who shared that experience. The way that shaped Matt, the way it informed his relationship to his mother and his family - I knew that Matt wasn't a fair-weather kind of guy. He proved it by calling me the next day to ask for a real date. (This was after months of me mooning over him on the other side of the bar.)

He asked if he could take me salsa dancing. Every bit of Cosmo advice screamed for me to shut my mouth and just say yes. Instead I spoke the truth. "That sounds... awful. Can't we just go to the Turf and have a couple drinks? Maybe catch a band?" I heard him heave a sigh of relief on the other end of the line.

He picked me up in a car that he paid a dollar for - arriving directly from his mother's house. He was living with her after spending a year (unemployed) in L.A. More things that my lady-magazine advice said was a bad omen.

But... I knew. I knew the way you know about a good steak, you know? He was tender on the inside. Sure, he only worked two days a week, but...

I should say, at this point in my life, I was hardly top shelf goods. My dad dying had damaged me and a bad break up a few years before had made me wary of anything that felt good. I was deeply insecure. I doubted I could trust someone - that I even deserved someone who was handsome, kind and funny. I was afraid that the loss of my father destroyed me and any hope at finding everlasting love.

After just a month of dating, he met me at the Turf for my birthday, dressed in a vintage tuxedo with a blue ruffled shirt. I visibly swooned. I did! And this wasn't a costume appropriate occasion. This was just my most dapper boyfriend. And I was so scared to love him as much as I did.

Today I know that I can love him even more than I ever could have thought possible. I know that ten years is nothing.

In these years, I've held his hand after he held his brother's lifeless body. I knew exactly what he meant when he said, "It was the last thing I could do for him." He held me up as I sang Carol King's Way Over Yonder at my sister's funeral.

He whooped, "No shit!" when I told him I was pregnant. He made me go to sleep when the collicky baby drove me to tears. He stroked my cheek when I was terrified, splayed on the operating table as our second baby was delivered. He told me everything was going to be alright. And I know that as long as I have him by my side - as long as we walk this life together - it's better than alright. It's better than I could have ever dreamed.

And on that fateful day, ten years ago, I knew I'd be better off if I could resist killing him, because we had a long and happy marriage to get to - we just had to make it through the wedding.

I love you Matt Summers. Thank you.