Hard to Get

My husband likes to tell people that when we first met,. I played "hard to get".  He likes to tell the story of how he chased my decidedly cold shoulder across two states until I finally softened and caved.   I can't say he's lying, because he actually believes it to be true.  But I know different.

By the time I'd hit my 30s, I was what you might call a seasoned dater.  I was getting to the age when people started asking me "When are you going to find someone and settle down?".  My older aunts were worried I was going to be a spinster.  My mother could barely hear me speaking over the sound of my ovaries dying on the vine.  I was much less concerned than everyone else, after all, I was having a  ball.  I certainly wasn't sitting at home on Friday nights waiting for the phone to ring.

I won't lie.... I did hear it.  On quiet nights, when the the TV was off... tick tick tick... my biological time clock. But I 'd quickly turn on the television and drown out the ticking with an episode of "Sex and the City".   Ah, order restored.

Before I met my husband, I'd  had sort of a "bad run" in the dating department.   I'll break it down for you.

There was Mr. "Perfect-on-Paper".  I liked him, he liked me, same values, same interests, cute, sexy, good with the parents.  But, at the end of the day, he never made me tingle.  When we were together, I liked him.  When we were apart, I never thought about him.  We parted as friends. 

There was Mr. "Oh-did-I-forget-to-mention-I-am-still-technically-married?".  Nuff said.

Finally there was Mr. "He's Just a Little Too Into You".  I won't say he was a stalker, let's just call it Stalker Lite. 

My husband and I met as a result of a "set up".  We were both invited to the same Christmas party by a mutual friend.  We were both aware of the situation and actually exchanged a few emails and phone calls before meeting.  But it was a total blind meeting.  We'd never seen each other until the night of the party.  Yikes, right?

Now, I will admit a few things... since I've already sealed the deal and have the ring to show for it.  When I first saw him... I liked his face.  A lot.  He wasn't Hotty McHotterson - he was better.  He had this face.. honest eyes, a crooked smile and a deep voice that melted me.  And later in  the night when it was time to leave the party, I walked over to him to exchange the always awkward goodbye.  After all, there were several sets of eyes watching us to see they'd made a love connection.  I spoke first.

"Well goodbye... it was really nice meeting you.  I'm glad Linda invited you."
"Yeah, me too.  Maybe we could see each other again some time."
"OK, sure, that would be nice."
INSERT AWKWARD SILENCE HERE.
(Can you feel the awkwardness.... ?)

So, then... I did something I am prone to do when I get nervous.  I panicked  and blurted out "Oh come on and give me a hug, ya big lug!"

And he laughed and he hugged me.  And I...... I tingled. 

He later confessed he'd wasn't sure he was ever going to call me again -  until that moment.  Until I called him a Lug and forced him to hug me.  He was hooked.

Me?  I was hooked too.  But I was also really, really scared.  I really didn't mind being single.  I'd sort of had it with men at this point.  And I also knew that The Tingle was almost always a prerequisite to The Let Down... or worse... The Heart Break.

So, I ducked and weaved a bit.  I tried to like my Big Lug, without loving him.  I tried to get to know him, without falling for him.  I tried to keep my mind on choosing outfits for our dates, and not china patterns for our future.

But I failed on every count.  I fell in love anyway.

So, in truth, I didn't play hard to get.  I was, in fact, hard to get.  I'd built this giant wall around my heart, but love, that clever bastard, scaled it.

Thank God.