Against All Odds...
My
sweetheart story begins when my wife and I first met. I was in college, and she
had just moved into my apartment complex, a coed complex segregated by gender.
The girls lived in a building across the street and perpendicular to mine, all
part of the same complex. This day was the change of semesters, so many had
already moved out, and new people were moving in. So, trying to be the
chivalrous amicable gentleman that I had hoped would attract a pretty girl, I
was over in their building, offering a hand wherever possible. I was going up
the stairs, and she was coming down with her roommate and best friend; our eyes
locked briefly and she complemented my apparel, "Nice shirt!"
"Thanks,"
I eloquently replied, and then we each proceeded on our way.
Later
that afternoon, a group of the returning residents had gathered to invite any
new move-ins to free ice cream at a charity event. Remembering our
unprecedented connection earlier, and because I thought she was beautiful, I
made it a point to find this particular girl, and invite her (and her roommate
of course, not doing so would have been socially detrimental). She accepted,
and we had our first social engagement as part of a large group, which allowed
for strategic escapes if the one-on-one conversation stagnated, or if she just
got annoying.
Well, due
to the pleasantness of the ice cream, and the fact that the more I learned of
her personality and character, the more attractive she became, I decided to pay
her a special visit a few nights later. As I ascended the three flights of
stairs to her apartment, the customary jitters and butterflies began attacking
without reservation. As I neared the top, I was suddenly unsure if I should not
wait until I could "accidentally" bump into her in public again, to
establish a stronger casual relationship before knocking on her personal
residence. Well, before I could complete this alternate scenario in my mind, I
found I had already knocked, and there was no turning back. As she opened the
door, her bright smile and enthusiasm made me instantly glad that I had
followed through with my original intent. However, what I witnessed next
immediately countered my elation at seeing her again.
As she
warmly greeted me, and immediately invited me in to her apartment, she opened
the door for me and, as I looked past her, I saw that there were already at
least dozen or so other guys, from the men's side of the street, already there,
visiting, chatting and "welcoming" the new move-ins. They had obviously
gotten the same impression about her that I had, and had contrived the same
idea this evening that I had, and had acted on that idea before I had. My heart
instantly sank, and the prospect of competing for her attention amidst such
odds (12 to 1, it was hopeless) was discouraging to say the least. I knew I
could not compete: I was not, nor ever had been, the best dressed, best
looking, quickest, smartest, tallest, strongest, nicest, richest or -est of
practically anything. I was average in about every way, coming down at various
distances from either side of mediocrity in several qualities, but never the
extreme, for good or bad. The competition, the foes if you will, included those
from my side of the street that could easily be categorized as the richest, the
most athletic, the most muscular, the funniest, etc., and what did I have going
for me? This is when I had wished I would have just waited to "bump"
into her in a different moment.
However,
I was suddenly struck with the thought that were I to turn away, then all of
these others, who were greater than me, would be ahead of me on time, spending
the rest of the evening schmoozing these two girls, and I would really be in
the dust. Furthermore, I understood one of the basic principles of life:
anything worth getting is worth the effort. So, I entered, put on my persona of
confidence, and began socializing and further sizing-up the competition.
To my
surprise, one small shift in dynamics steeply bent the odds in my favor.
Someone suggested we watch a movie, which the group quickly accepted as the
activity for the evening. I am sure they were all picturing themselves in the
choice seat, next to one of the beautiful girls, with the lights dim and some
intense action or horror that would push them into the ready arms of the strong
knight-in-shiny-armor. However, as the multiple suggestions began arising, she,
my sweetheart, suggested Disney's Hercules,
funny and light, with none of the romantic or dangerous aspects they were
waiting for. I like Disney movies, I like that Disney movie, so I agreed, and,
to my benefit, she trumped their decision (it was her apartment), and put the
movie in. Slowly, the scene began to change: not wanting to watch the movie,
being bored by the movie, remembering that there were other girls who had also
recently moved in, or for whatever reason, the others began leaving, slowly
filtering out.
Eventually
there were just two: me and one other who was a bit more socially awkward than
me, but was definitely the strongest. We were on the couch, enjoying Disney,
with the lights low, me by my prospective sweetheart, and he by her roommate.
The movie ended, I asked her out, and so began our courtship. I was up to the
challenge, I conquered the competition, I outlasted the opposition, and I
eventually fell in love with this fellow Disney-lover. Eleven months later we
were married, and while our courtship and subsequent marriage has not always
been easy, I was absolutely right: anything worth winning is worth fighting
for... She was, and still is, totally worth it.
