We thought dating was stupid.
Earlier this week, we had dinner with my 87-year-old great-aunt Mishan. She is an energetic little Cuban lady who, as Noah describes, is “the happiest old person I have ever met.” Upon meeting him and hearing a bit of our story, she declared, “So you kept talking until you decided to get married!” which actually sums it up quite accurately.
Exactly one year ago on this very weekend, Noah flew thousands of miles to the States, and I took a midnight bus down from Amherst, MA to New York. We had talked via Skype for several months, and exchanged hundreds of emails, but had yet to spend time together in person.
Since I didn’t recall actually meeting him the summer of 2008, we were basically meeting for the first time. For the weeks leading up to February 10th, I remember simultaneously longing for and greatly dreading seeing him. An excerpt from one of the letters I had written:
I’m afraid. The other day, I asked you what you were afraid of. I’m afraid of commitment, of things that can’t change, of feeling trapped. I’m afraid of rushing life before I live it. I’m afraid of losing you without even having you. I’m afraid that spending real-life time with you will confirm how much this friendship means to me; I’m afraid that it won’t. I’m afraid that this is just a season, and that it will end…
I’m afraid because I know that that, at least, is true, and that I don’t know what will come next.
Oh, angsty young love ;)
Our relationship was almost entirely long-distance. The twelve days we spent together when he visited America were the only days we had together before getting engaged two months later, and getting married less than two months after that.
Since we didn’t have a “dating season,” the time we did have before I went to China to be engaged is very special. We spent a weekend in wintry New York and fell in love, which is in itself very magical, and a year later, we’re husband and wife, and the magic continues.
Happy one year meeting-&-falling-in-love anniversary, baby <3