A few weeks back I got to write a snippet of the story about how I met my husband. I was delighted when an editor friend of mine asked if I’d write something more about relationships that take a long time to start fizzling, as opposed those with instant chemistry 🙂 Click straight on over to The Well, or read a snippet here first….
This is how the conversation usually goes:
Curious person: “So, how did you and your husband meet?”
Me: “Funny enough, we met on my front doorstep.”
Curious person: “Oooh! Was it love at first sight?”
Me: “No. Not even close.”
Our story had much more awkward beginnings: he was late to dinner, dressed in a jacket that should have stayed in 1987, and he mumbled a very awkward “don’t I know you from somewhere?” — arguably the second worst pick-up line ever. Then there were weeks of misfired conversation, a DTR which revealed that he thought I was being flirty when I was trying to be friendly, followed by a few more weeks of silence.
And then, somehow, our paths crossed again and I found myself interested in getting to know him. We started dating, even though I had put him firmly in the category of Not My Type. He was quiet, reserved, and didn’t seem to have the social chutzpah which I thought a man would need to have to deal with someone as outgoing, over-educated and outspoken as me.
Yet, even though he didn’t look like My Type, or sound like My Type, I found myself wanting him to think well of me. Slowly, I conceded that perhaps My Type needed an update…..
(Click here to continue reading over at The Well…)