So, admittedly, this post has much more to do with me than with Johnie or our life together, but when remembering this time in my life, moving out of that apartment was a big deal for me, and I must have one post just for that little place in Richmond, KY that will always have a special place in my heart.
In December 2006, one of the hardest parts of marrying Johnie was giving up my apartment. I had hoped my roommate would want to keep it so that I could continue to visit it whenever I was in town. But she decided to move out, too, and I understood her decision. I did not look forward to saying goodbye to my little home. Even today, in this big wide world, and all the places I've visited and lived, Richmond, KY is where I consider my home to be. I've often said that I would have been content living my entire life in that little place and would have loved to begin my married life in it.
After transferring to EKU, a friend from high school and I decided to get a place of our own. After a small search, we visited her cousin's girlfriend's place and considered her offer to let us move in with her. It was cheap and workable, so we agreed. I packed all my belongings into the back of my blue 1991 Chevrolet Cavalier and officially moved out of my home and out on my own into this apartment. My friend and I bought matching beds and shared a bedroom of the second story apartment.
I had been craving independence. I wasn't wild or rebelious, but I didn't want to have to answer to or ask permission from anyone to do the things I wanted to do - as low key as staying out late on a Friday night, or going out with friends may be. While this place gave me that, it wasn't an immediate love between us. We knew that three people in a two bedroom apartment would be tight, but it wasn't just the three of us. Our new roommate had friends and family visiting almost always. She did hook me up with a job as a front desk clerk at a local Comfort Suites which I greatly enjoyed. But, I worked several third shift nights, and would often come home to complete strangers sleeping in the living room when returning in the morning.
Thankfully, those conditions didn't last for long. By the end of the summer, our roommate let us know she would be moving out. My high school friend said she would be moving out, too. I was anxious during that time, but before I was stuck with my bills tripling, my best friend took me up on moving in the vacant second bedroom. And this is when my affection for the dwelling began to increase. With my roommates gone, I was left with an empty home. My grandfather gave me an old couch. It was the only thing in the living room. Misty moved in and filled up the bedroom, and decorated the bathroom. With a few little accents she made the lone couch actually look good. We combined our money and bought a dining room table.
Mip is quite the interior decorator, and she definitely transformed the apartment. She was reluctant, but I talked her into decorating the kitchen and dining room in cherries. She said to me that she was surprisingly relieved that my ideas for those areas turned out not to be tacky at all! She enhanced my work by tying little cherries onto the dining room chairs, painting and framing a cluster of cherries, and even making a little cherry window cling for the kitchen window. With my best friend living with me, the apartment felt like home.
Misty only lived with me a few months before relocating to Louisville. I had taken a second job and was able to afford the rent on my own, and decided against yet another new roommate. The lease on the apartment had been signed several year's prior by my original roommate's cousin before she even moved in. Rent was set then and never increased. Beyond that, the apartment complex across the street had a pool and fitness center. While we technically weren't supposed to use those facilities, the codes were shared freely. While my guilt prevented me from using those facilities very often, I did still brag about having access to them with such cheap rent. My family bought me a new desk, and I transformed my second bedroom into an office. I made everything about the apartment exactly the way I wanted it. It was wonderful. My boyfriend at the time and his parents showered me with many gifts to help make the apartment even better including kitchenware, a washer and dryer, a computer, and quite a few decorations.
While I was nervous about living alone, and honestly there were some nights that were very lonely, I loved this experience for the most part. I will always be thankful for this time in my life, and believe I will always look back fondly on it. I accepted an internship in Bloomington, IN during the summer of 2005. While I spent that summer in a dorm in Indiana, I kept my Kentucky apartment. While at IU, I forged a friendship with a fellow intern. We traveled together back and forth from Kentucky. I don't remember who talked who into what, but by the time the internship was over, I had a new roommate. And, while I had a total of 7 different roommates throughout my college years, Sarah will always be my college roommate.
My little apartment transformed yet again to accommodate what I really felt was a true college living experience. I had a fellow roommate who had tons of classes and homework like me. We left notes for one another, bought a table, chairs, and umbrella and began utilizing the back deck to its fullest potential (and actually pushed some limits after a fire involving a table top grill with improvised legs). We even snuck in a cat my friend could no longer keep after getting married. It was yet another wonderful experience.
Before I moved into my place, my father told me I'd never be able to cover my bills and keep up with my classes. I wasn't sure he was wrong at first. But I proved to myself and the world that I could make it. This little apartment was the central hub of my life. It housed many wonderful times and great laughs. It was the place where I first began navigating adulthood. It is where I heard some of my friends' deepest fears, concerns, and secrets, and shared my own. It was there that the man I loved knelt on one knee and promised to ask me to marry him someday, and that same place I broke both of our hearts by ending that relationship a couple years later. (Laughably, I also panicked during that proposal as well. I did accept the promise ring on his first "try," but I felt like I had to make a verbal response to "I promise to ask you to marry me," and was at a loss for words. I thought it was expected for me to say that I promise to say yes, but I also felt like you couldn't break a promise and didn't want to commit so fully that I couldn't back out later. My response was, "I promise to let you ask me.") It was there that I completed my Bachelor's degree and began my graduate degree. It was in that apartment where I spent hours and hours and hours talking with Johnie, and ultimately accepted (and followed through with) his proposal.
On this return trip to Kentucky, just days before my wedding, I closed the door to my apartment for the last time. Johnie and I stopped by it on the way to my family's home on Christmas day. I picked up a few final things. I raised the shades in the kitchen, but couldn't bring myself to remove the little cherry window cling. And, as dorky as it sounds, I sometimes still get a lump in my throat when I think of driving down North Keeneland and not seeing them if I look up at that second story window.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Our First Holiday Season...
Amid graduate school, work, wedding planning and moving, our first holiday season together arrived. I was very excited to establish lifelong holiday traditions. Johnie, not so much. Good for him, he obliged me anyway. We were talking about our holiday traditions a few months ago (which Johnie now enjoys, by the way), and Johnie asked how I would have felt if he had been totally opposed to creating or celebrating any holiday traditions. I told him I would have broken up with him. He thought I was joking, but I assured him that the holidays are such a big deal to me (including all the traditions and family time that is wrapped up in them) that I wasn't willing to give them up for a boy.
Johnie traveled to Kentucky to celebrate Thanksgiving with me and my family. I don't remember much about it except Johnie being impressed by the meal my mother prepared. Christmas, on the other hand, was quite hectic. We had planned our wedding for December 30th in Kentucky, and my semester at school wrapped up mid-December. So, after finishing school, I had to move to Kansas, celebrate Christmas, and get married all in about a two week period. Sadly, Christmas celebrations in Kentucky took a back seat. My roommate and I opted not to put up a tree in our apartment since we'd be out by Christmas anyway. I was still adamant about establishing traditions with Johnie, though.
After completing my classes, I loaded up my car and headed for Kansas. Nearing Christmas day, and having not erected a Christmas tree, it was a priority of mine to get a tree up in what would be our apartment when I returned to Kansas again. Johnie would have preferred not having a Christmas tree. I don't think he'd ever had one growing up, and he wasn't thrilled to start now. I didn't care. I put it up while he was at work, and he was thoughtful enough not to even hint at taking it down. While I did let him out of helping with the decorations that year, I did inform him that we must buy an ornament to commemorate 2006 and he would be joining me for that.
It is still difficult for us to navigate the miles separating our families and still be fair during the holiday season, and it was especially difficult for us that first year. Thankfully, my family is much more concerned with the traditions surrounding the holiday (cooking a huge meal, spending time with family) than the date in which we actually celebrate it, and Johnie's family didn't have many holiday traditions set in stone. That first year we decided to celebrate Christmas with his family on Christmas eve, and then travel to Kentucky on Christmas day to celebrate with my family and prepare for the wedding in the final days.
Since it wasn't really "our" apartment that Christmas, and we were going to be in the car all day long our very first Christmas day together, I still felt a bit jipped in the celebration for Johnie and me. (I also was very concerned with both of us establishing our own traditions, separate from either of our families.) I devised a grand plan to celebrate the day in the car together. I planned to wear a cheesy Christmas sweater (topped with a red Santa hat) and tune the radio to holiday music. Still not wanting to leave a tree out of our first Christmas celebration, I thought of a brilliant idea: we could buy a tree-shaped car air freshener and I could decorate it with markers. An air freshener sized tree was much more Johnie's speed, anyway.
When I first thought of this, I had several weeks to prepare. I thought I would pick up the little tree, and deck it out with glitter, markers, and maybe even cut out a little paper star to glue on top. But, with so many things on my to-do list, and being a bit distracted with other things, the little tree was never purchased nor decorated. I never forgot about it, though. Driving up to Kansas City to spend the night with Johnie's sister on Christmas eve, I mentioned we had yet to buy the tree. Johnie agreed we could buy one first thing the next morning. I had a blue ink pen in the car I decided I could decorate the little tree with.
True to his word, Johnie stopped at a gas station just down the street from his sister's house early Christmas morning. I eagerly waited in the car for what seemed like half an hour. He returned with our very first Christmas tree. It was an "extra large" tree shaped air freshener, so a bit bigger than your standard size. Johnie earned some major points with that! I excitedly tore open the packaging to begin "decorating" the tree before hanging it from the visor.
The tree was larger than normal and the packaging touted that it was "extra strength" for even more air freshening ability. The smell hit us like a wall. Whew! I had wanted to draw intricate little ornaments, garlands, and a star on top with my ink pen. I managed to scribble a few little dots on it before sliding it back in the plastic and laying it on the dashboard. I told Johnie the tree didn't have to be very ornate to still work for us. He honestly didn't care one way or another. I tried to reseal the packaging to shield us from the smell, but it still enveloped the car. We stopped and I washed my hands. We could still smell the tree.
I put the tree in the glove box, telling Johnie that it didn't have to be out for every one to see for us to still celebrate. The smell still seeped out. It gave me a headache, but I took a couple Tylenol and persevered. Into Illinois, we began discussing how to rid ourselves of the smell. Johnie suggested that we could roll the windows down and air out the car. We did that, but couldn't keep them down for long since it was so cold, and a wintry mix began to drizzle down. Inspired by Johnie's suggestion, I reasoned that if we aired out the air freshener our problem would be solved. I cracked my window a bit, looped the string of the tree around my finger and held it out the window.
Several miles passed. The smell still lingered, but we were hopeful it would dissipate soon. I stipulated that the precipitation would probably help get the smell out even faster. I switched the tree from hand to hand. Johnie, in an effort to be helpful, and seal the car completely from the freezing temperatures and drizzle, suggested that I close the window on the air freshener itself. I thought it was worth a shot. I held my finger close to the edge and rolled the window up. It was a marvelous solution! We celebrated our accomplishment, and laughed at the flapping noise the tree made as it hit up against the car.
Then the flapping stopped. I turned to look. The tree was no longer there. I looked to Johnie. His eyes were wide and he covered his mouth with his hand. I looked back to the window, a green string still hanging on the inside. I rolled the window down and retrieved the very tip (probably less than an inch) of what was left of the air freshener. I probably would have wanted to stop and search for the tree had we lost the whole thing. I had talked at length when I first began hanging it out the window how we had to be really careful to not let it blow away since it was, after all, our very first Christmas tree. But, we still had the tree. Although there wasn't much left, there was still physical evidence of it. I was satisfied with that, and began to laugh. Johnie started laughing, too. If you know me, you can understand his hesitance on not knowing how I would handle or react to what had just happened.
Believe it or not, the tip of that little tree still stank up the car. Although it didn't solve the problem completely, we dropped it down in an empty tea bottle we had in the car and sealed the lid as tightly as we could.
I still have that little tip of a tree tucked away in a dresser drawer. After our house was broken into, I was actually thankful that it was something the robber didn't take. It has lost all its scent since Christmas day 2006, but we still chuckle about it, and enjoy sharing this story.
Oh, and Johnie did a good job with Christmas presents that year. He bought me diamond earrings.
Johnie traveled to Kentucky to celebrate Thanksgiving with me and my family. I don't remember much about it except Johnie being impressed by the meal my mother prepared. Christmas, on the other hand, was quite hectic. We had planned our wedding for December 30th in Kentucky, and my semester at school wrapped up mid-December. So, after finishing school, I had to move to Kansas, celebrate Christmas, and get married all in about a two week period. Sadly, Christmas celebrations in Kentucky took a back seat. My roommate and I opted not to put up a tree in our apartment since we'd be out by Christmas anyway. I was still adamant about establishing traditions with Johnie, though.
After completing my classes, I loaded up my car and headed for Kansas. Nearing Christmas day, and having not erected a Christmas tree, it was a priority of mine to get a tree up in what would be our apartment when I returned to Kansas again. Johnie would have preferred not having a Christmas tree. I don't think he'd ever had one growing up, and he wasn't thrilled to start now. I didn't care. I put it up while he was at work, and he was thoughtful enough not to even hint at taking it down. While I did let him out of helping with the decorations that year, I did inform him that we must buy an ornament to commemorate 2006 and he would be joining me for that.
It is still difficult for us to navigate the miles separating our families and still be fair during the holiday season, and it was especially difficult for us that first year. Thankfully, my family is much more concerned with the traditions surrounding the holiday (cooking a huge meal, spending time with family) than the date in which we actually celebrate it, and Johnie's family didn't have many holiday traditions set in stone. That first year we decided to celebrate Christmas with his family on Christmas eve, and then travel to Kentucky on Christmas day to celebrate with my family and prepare for the wedding in the final days.
Since it wasn't really "our" apartment that Christmas, and we were going to be in the car all day long our very first Christmas day together, I still felt a bit jipped in the celebration for Johnie and me. (I also was very concerned with both of us establishing our own traditions, separate from either of our families.) I devised a grand plan to celebrate the day in the car together. I planned to wear a cheesy Christmas sweater (topped with a red Santa hat) and tune the radio to holiday music. Still not wanting to leave a tree out of our first Christmas celebration, I thought of a brilliant idea: we could buy a tree-shaped car air freshener and I could decorate it with markers. An air freshener sized tree was much more Johnie's speed, anyway.
When I first thought of this, I had several weeks to prepare. I thought I would pick up the little tree, and deck it out with glitter, markers, and maybe even cut out a little paper star to glue on top. But, with so many things on my to-do list, and being a bit distracted with other things, the little tree was never purchased nor decorated. I never forgot about it, though. Driving up to Kansas City to spend the night with Johnie's sister on Christmas eve, I mentioned we had yet to buy the tree. Johnie agreed we could buy one first thing the next morning. I had a blue ink pen in the car I decided I could decorate the little tree with.
True to his word, Johnie stopped at a gas station just down the street from his sister's house early Christmas morning. I eagerly waited in the car for what seemed like half an hour. He returned with our very first Christmas tree. It was an "extra large" tree shaped air freshener, so a bit bigger than your standard size. Johnie earned some major points with that! I excitedly tore open the packaging to begin "decorating" the tree before hanging it from the visor.
The tree was larger than normal and the packaging touted that it was "extra strength" for even more air freshening ability. The smell hit us like a wall. Whew! I had wanted to draw intricate little ornaments, garlands, and a star on top with my ink pen. I managed to scribble a few little dots on it before sliding it back in the plastic and laying it on the dashboard. I told Johnie the tree didn't have to be very ornate to still work for us. He honestly didn't care one way or another. I tried to reseal the packaging to shield us from the smell, but it still enveloped the car. We stopped and I washed my hands. We could still smell the tree.
I put the tree in the glove box, telling Johnie that it didn't have to be out for every one to see for us to still celebrate. The smell still seeped out. It gave me a headache, but I took a couple Tylenol and persevered. Into Illinois, we began discussing how to rid ourselves of the smell. Johnie suggested that we could roll the windows down and air out the car. We did that, but couldn't keep them down for long since it was so cold, and a wintry mix began to drizzle down. Inspired by Johnie's suggestion, I reasoned that if we aired out the air freshener our problem would be solved. I cracked my window a bit, looped the string of the tree around my finger and held it out the window.
Several miles passed. The smell still lingered, but we were hopeful it would dissipate soon. I stipulated that the precipitation would probably help get the smell out even faster. I switched the tree from hand to hand. Johnie, in an effort to be helpful, and seal the car completely from the freezing temperatures and drizzle, suggested that I close the window on the air freshener itself. I thought it was worth a shot. I held my finger close to the edge and rolled the window up. It was a marvelous solution! We celebrated our accomplishment, and laughed at the flapping noise the tree made as it hit up against the car.
Then the flapping stopped. I turned to look. The tree was no longer there. I looked to Johnie. His eyes were wide and he covered his mouth with his hand. I looked back to the window, a green string still hanging on the inside. I rolled the window down and retrieved the very tip (probably less than an inch) of what was left of the air freshener. I probably would have wanted to stop and search for the tree had we lost the whole thing. I had talked at length when I first began hanging it out the window how we had to be really careful to not let it blow away since it was, after all, our very first Christmas tree. But, we still had the tree. Although there wasn't much left, there was still physical evidence of it. I was satisfied with that, and began to laugh. Johnie started laughing, too. If you know me, you can understand his hesitance on not knowing how I would handle or react to what had just happened.
Believe it or not, the tip of that little tree still stank up the car. Although it didn't solve the problem completely, we dropped it down in an empty tea bottle we had in the car and sealed the lid as tightly as we could.
I still have that little tip of a tree tucked away in a dresser drawer. After our house was broken into, I was actually thankful that it was something the robber didn't take. It has lost all its scent since Christmas day 2006, but we still chuckle about it, and enjoy sharing this story.
Oh, and Johnie did a good job with Christmas presents that year. He bought me diamond earrings.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Oklahoma Shortcut
I had a short fall break in October. In the midst of planning a wedding, Johnie and I didn't have a lot of spare cash on hand. That didn't make us want to see each other any less. While the cost of a plane ticket was out of our budget, the cost of a road trip was doable.
We planned a trip in October in which I would drive to Kansas on Friday, and Johnie would drive me back on Sunday. His schedule then gave him Mondays off, so he would have all day that day to make it back to Kansas. Johnie was much less willing to drive the miles between Kansas and Kentucky than I was, but he couldn't argue much since I would be making the trip by myself on Friday.
Being a chronic planner, I poured over maps and websites. I considered several different routes and options before finally planning which roads we would take on our trip. Unlike Johnie, I loved road trips. I was excited about the whole thing.
I was pumped to be traveling to Kansas through a couple states I had never visited before. I was hopeful I would get to see the Saint Louis Arch on my journey. I had a good car that was still under warranty. I knew this would be a great memory that we would cherish forever: our first road trip together. I reasoned that while Johnie may not like road trips very much, he had never been on one with me, and we would have a good time.
Friday morning came and I nervously set out. I was a little unsure of how the day would unfold, but by mid-morning I was almost in Illinois and pleasantly surprised with how easy the trip had gone so far.
It didn't really hit me the endeavor I was making until I stopped for gas just outside Saint Louis. I stood outside my car waiting for my tank to fill and looked around at completely new and unfamiliar surroundings. Everyone around me were total strangers. It hit me that I was all alone hundreds of miles from home. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but seemed to disappear when I was safely back in my car and out on the interstate.
I navigated Saint Louis surprisingly well, and did get to see the arch. I arrived in Kansas City during rush hour and waited through that traffic, finally arriving in Wichita around 9:30 Friday night.
Johnie started shaking when he saw me. Prior to this I found the shaking endearing. He had to really like me if I made him so nervous. But now we were engaged and there's something a bit worrisome about making your fiance shake.
We discussed his uncontrollable shaking. Part of me worried that this would be my life, that he would shake for several minutes after coming home from work each evening.
I don't remember much about my short stay in Wichita that weekend. We ordered a pizza Friday night. I was exhausted. I did go wedding dress shopping on Saturday out of boredom (Johnie had to work), and ended up buying my dress.
The most memorable part of the trip came on Sunday, though.
Having driven the route west, I was even more excited to drive it east. It hadn't been as difficult as I expected, it was actually quite easy. Johnie would be with me this time. I had even reviewed the route again and made a change in Kansas City to make that area even quicker and easier to navigate. I had scoped out stops along the way, was more confident about gas mileage for my car, and had planned our Sunday trip back down to the very detail of which exits we would stop at along the way.
While I am normally quite concerned with being very efficient with my time, this trip necessitated it. We were on a very tight schedule. We would be getting in around midnight and I had to be at school, with more than 100 essays graded, at 8 am the next morning. I had even prepared sandwiches for us to eat on the way so we could make it to Kentucky even faster.
Sunday morning we had breakfast with Johnie's grandparents before church. Johnie's grandfather asked us about our route. We told him, but he said that we had not chosen the quickest route. He began to tell us another way to go that would be much faster.
I am not good at taking verbal directions, and Johnie's grandfather's route involved going through Oklahoma, a state in which I had never been, and taking roads I had never heard of. Even though I was very concerned for time, this new route didn't appeal to me due to it's lack of detailed turn by turn directions I had acquired from online maps for the route we planned to take. I didn't give the other route much thought.
However, back in our car, Johnie mentioned something about the Oklahoma route. He was the one driving today, so I asked him if he planned to use it. He said that his grandfather had driven a truck in years past, and so would know the best routes to take and thought this one was worth a shot.
I asked him if he knew the roads his grandfather was talking about, if he was confident he could get us back to Kentucky without getting lost. He said he was. I trusted Johnie, but I felt I needed to be very clear with him about how big of a deal time and efficiency were to me. I wasn't sure he understood that I wasn't very easy going about these matters.
Faced with which route to take, I said, "I'm okay if you take this other way, but I need you to know that if we get lost even once, or if this takes us even five minutes longer than the other way, I will be very, very upset."
"Okay," he replied.
I still wasn't sure he quite understood, "I mean, really upset. Like, it will be bad. I will be extremely upset with you. Are you sure you don't even want to look at a map before deciding?"
He reassured me that everything would be okay on this other route. I reasoned that he was the one driving, he was more familiar with the area than me anyway, and this new route would take me through another new state. I tossed my directions in the back of the car, settled in for the trip before us and resumed grading essays.
The trip began amazingly well. The weather was absolutely perfect that day. It seemed like we were in Oklahoma in mere minutes and into Missouri in about the same time as if we had gone through Kansas City. Johnie had kept his word about knowing the roads, and with the faster speed limit, my optimism rose that we had discovered a super secret shortcut between Kansas and Kentucky.
I was nearly finished with my papers when our trip neared the six hour mark. Things were still going quite smoothly. I asked Johnie if he knew how far we were from Saint Louis. He said he didn't. I began watching for signs that would tell us how far we were from the city.
Past Saint Louis, this route was the same as the other one, and the other one would have put us in Saint Louis in seven hours. We passed a couple signs listing cities and the distance we were from them, but none of them listed Saint Louis. After a short conversation about how strange it was that Missouri didn't list one of their biggest cities on their distance signs, I decided to retrieve my atlas from the back seat to see just how far away we were.
I flipped the atlas to Missouri, located Interstate 44, and watched the road to see the upcoming mile marker. I matched the mile marker we had just passed with the mile marker listing on the atlas.
Apparently I had made a mistake in my calculations. I kept my finger at it's spot on the map and watched the road again. We passed an exit. I found the exit on the map, but it still wasn't right.
I held the map close to my face to make sure my eyes weren't blurring or transposing numbers.
Unfortunately, there was nothing wrong with my eyes, nor my map reading ability. We were more than 200 miles from Saint Louis. (While I didn't do the math then, I have done it since, and the shortcut added more than 150 miles to our already 800 mile trip.)
True to my word, I became very, very upset.
I can't think of a better way to describe it than that I wilted. I had never imagined that this shortcut would add several hours to our trip, I had been concerned with it possibly adding several minutes to our trip. Even though we both knew exactly where we were, and how to get where we were going, and even though we were traveling down the interstate at more than 70 miles per hour, I felt stuck, stranded.
I felt like a helpless victim headed for dismay with no way to stop it. I began doing mental calculations about the number of hours this added to our trip, the number of hours it subtracted from our sleep that night. I began to worry about getting through my hectic week at school and work, and Johnie driving back to Kansas the following day on very little sleep.
I worried he would fall asleep or have a seizure (Johnie has epilepsy) behind the wheel on his way home triggered by his short-cut induced insomnia.
While not quite over my total disappointment and dread for what lay before us, anger also welled up inside me. It came out, too.
It wasn't hard to see that Johnie was sorry for his mistake. His shoulders slumped in the driver's seat. He quietly said "I'm sorry" over and over again while, through heaving sobs, I recited a monologue of incomprehensible words about all the work I put into making this trip the best it possibly could be, how he should've looked at a map, how I had warned him that I would have a reaction like this, and how the consequences of this shortcut could affect us throughout the evening, the following day and week, and possibly even longer.
I'll never forget at one point, while I was catching my breath, he even asked if it would make me feel better if I just slapped him.
I didn't say anything. I didn't slap him, but I did look at his face and consider it. I thought it might make me feel better, but then, forever, I would have slapped him which couldn't be good for our relationship. It might cause him to wreck, or it might even leave a mark.
I was upset, but it would have been embarrassing for both of us for him to have to say "my fiance slapped me" when someone asked him what was wrong with his face.
I had quieted by the time we made it into Saint Louis, although my tears had not yet completely dried up. Johnie was unsure how to get to Interstate 64 to take us into Kentucky. It wasn't hard for us to figure out, but I did give him grief about it.
It was while we were making these interchanges in Saint Louis that my sweet mother called. I didn't want to answer the phone until we were safely on I-64 and ignored the call. Just inside Illinois, I willed composure before dialing my mom back.
I explained to Johnie I didn't want to lose it when I talked to her. It surely wouldn't score him any future son-in-law bonus points. I practiced what I would say and how I would say it.
Had we taken my route, we would have been pretty close to the Kentucky state line at this point. I knew my mom was calling to ask where we were. I could say Illinois, which was close to Indiana, which was where we should have been.
If she inquired further, I could say that we had taken a different route and were a little behind schedule.
When I heard my mother's cheery voice on the other end, she didn't ask, "where are you?" She asked, "well, are you in Kentucky yet?"
"No," I replied. I fought the flood for a couple seconds, but then succumbed. I lost it. I began the incomprehensible monologue once more.
Laughably now, my mom interrupted me after a minute, "are you driving?"
"No," I said, "Johnie is. How do you think I got in this mess? If I were driving we'd almost be home!" I had forgotten about good son-in-law points. And while I didn't really intend to throw my future husband under the bus, I still smile at the vindication my grandfather gave me that night by saying, "well, he'll learn to listen to my baby from now on."
We survived that trip, the lack of sleep that night, and our lives the following day. And, as is often the case with him (and with me), Johnie learned a valuable lesson the hard way.
Johnie and I have traveled many miles together in our short marriage, and gone on many road trips since that one. Never again has he questioned my navigation and planning.
We planned a trip in October in which I would drive to Kansas on Friday, and Johnie would drive me back on Sunday. His schedule then gave him Mondays off, so he would have all day that day to make it back to Kansas. Johnie was much less willing to drive the miles between Kansas and Kentucky than I was, but he couldn't argue much since I would be making the trip by myself on Friday.
Being a chronic planner, I poured over maps and websites. I considered several different routes and options before finally planning which roads we would take on our trip. Unlike Johnie, I loved road trips. I was excited about the whole thing.
I was pumped to be traveling to Kansas through a couple states I had never visited before. I was hopeful I would get to see the Saint Louis Arch on my journey. I had a good car that was still under warranty. I knew this would be a great memory that we would cherish forever: our first road trip together. I reasoned that while Johnie may not like road trips very much, he had never been on one with me, and we would have a good time.
Friday morning came and I nervously set out. I was a little unsure of how the day would unfold, but by mid-morning I was almost in Illinois and pleasantly surprised with how easy the trip had gone so far.
It didn't really hit me the endeavor I was making until I stopped for gas just outside Saint Louis. I stood outside my car waiting for my tank to fill and looked around at completely new and unfamiliar surroundings. Everyone around me were total strangers. It hit me that I was all alone hundreds of miles from home. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but seemed to disappear when I was safely back in my car and out on the interstate.
I navigated Saint Louis surprisingly well, and did get to see the arch. I arrived in Kansas City during rush hour and waited through that traffic, finally arriving in Wichita around 9:30 Friday night.
Johnie started shaking when he saw me. Prior to this I found the shaking endearing. He had to really like me if I made him so nervous. But now we were engaged and there's something a bit worrisome about making your fiance shake.
We discussed his uncontrollable shaking. Part of me worried that this would be my life, that he would shake for several minutes after coming home from work each evening.
I don't remember much about my short stay in Wichita that weekend. We ordered a pizza Friday night. I was exhausted. I did go wedding dress shopping on Saturday out of boredom (Johnie had to work), and ended up buying my dress.
The most memorable part of the trip came on Sunday, though.
Having driven the route west, I was even more excited to drive it east. It hadn't been as difficult as I expected, it was actually quite easy. Johnie would be with me this time. I had even reviewed the route again and made a change in Kansas City to make that area even quicker and easier to navigate. I had scoped out stops along the way, was more confident about gas mileage for my car, and had planned our Sunday trip back down to the very detail of which exits we would stop at along the way.
While I am normally quite concerned with being very efficient with my time, this trip necessitated it. We were on a very tight schedule. We would be getting in around midnight and I had to be at school, with more than 100 essays graded, at 8 am the next morning. I had even prepared sandwiches for us to eat on the way so we could make it to Kentucky even faster.
Sunday morning we had breakfast with Johnie's grandparents before church. Johnie's grandfather asked us about our route. We told him, but he said that we had not chosen the quickest route. He began to tell us another way to go that would be much faster.
I am not good at taking verbal directions, and Johnie's grandfather's route involved going through Oklahoma, a state in which I had never been, and taking roads I had never heard of. Even though I was very concerned for time, this new route didn't appeal to me due to it's lack of detailed turn by turn directions I had acquired from online maps for the route we planned to take. I didn't give the other route much thought.
However, back in our car, Johnie mentioned something about the Oklahoma route. He was the one driving today, so I asked him if he planned to use it. He said that his grandfather had driven a truck in years past, and so would know the best routes to take and thought this one was worth a shot.
I asked him if he knew the roads his grandfather was talking about, if he was confident he could get us back to Kentucky without getting lost. He said he was. I trusted Johnie, but I felt I needed to be very clear with him about how big of a deal time and efficiency were to me. I wasn't sure he understood that I wasn't very easy going about these matters.
Faced with which route to take, I said, "I'm okay if you take this other way, but I need you to know that if we get lost even once, or if this takes us even five minutes longer than the other way, I will be very, very upset."
"Okay," he replied.
I still wasn't sure he quite understood, "I mean, really upset. Like, it will be bad. I will be extremely upset with you. Are you sure you don't even want to look at a map before deciding?"
He reassured me that everything would be okay on this other route. I reasoned that he was the one driving, he was more familiar with the area than me anyway, and this new route would take me through another new state. I tossed my directions in the back of the car, settled in for the trip before us and resumed grading essays.
The trip began amazingly well. The weather was absolutely perfect that day. It seemed like we were in Oklahoma in mere minutes and into Missouri in about the same time as if we had gone through Kansas City. Johnie had kept his word about knowing the roads, and with the faster speed limit, my optimism rose that we had discovered a super secret shortcut between Kansas and Kentucky.
I was nearly finished with my papers when our trip neared the six hour mark. Things were still going quite smoothly. I asked Johnie if he knew how far we were from Saint Louis. He said he didn't. I began watching for signs that would tell us how far we were from the city.
Past Saint Louis, this route was the same as the other one, and the other one would have put us in Saint Louis in seven hours. We passed a couple signs listing cities and the distance we were from them, but none of them listed Saint Louis. After a short conversation about how strange it was that Missouri didn't list one of their biggest cities on their distance signs, I decided to retrieve my atlas from the back seat to see just how far away we were.
I flipped the atlas to Missouri, located Interstate 44, and watched the road to see the upcoming mile marker. I matched the mile marker we had just passed with the mile marker listing on the atlas.
Apparently I had made a mistake in my calculations. I kept my finger at it's spot on the map and watched the road again. We passed an exit. I found the exit on the map, but it still wasn't right.
I held the map close to my face to make sure my eyes weren't blurring or transposing numbers.
Unfortunately, there was nothing wrong with my eyes, nor my map reading ability. We were more than 200 miles from Saint Louis. (While I didn't do the math then, I have done it since, and the shortcut added more than 150 miles to our already 800 mile trip.)
True to my word, I became very, very upset.
I can't think of a better way to describe it than that I wilted. I had never imagined that this shortcut would add several hours to our trip, I had been concerned with it possibly adding several minutes to our trip. Even though we both knew exactly where we were, and how to get where we were going, and even though we were traveling down the interstate at more than 70 miles per hour, I felt stuck, stranded.
I felt like a helpless victim headed for dismay with no way to stop it. I began doing mental calculations about the number of hours this added to our trip, the number of hours it subtracted from our sleep that night. I began to worry about getting through my hectic week at school and work, and Johnie driving back to Kansas the following day on very little sleep.
I worried he would fall asleep or have a seizure (Johnie has epilepsy) behind the wheel on his way home triggered by his short-cut induced insomnia.
While not quite over my total disappointment and dread for what lay before us, anger also welled up inside me. It came out, too.
It wasn't hard to see that Johnie was sorry for his mistake. His shoulders slumped in the driver's seat. He quietly said "I'm sorry" over and over again while, through heaving sobs, I recited a monologue of incomprehensible words about all the work I put into making this trip the best it possibly could be, how he should've looked at a map, how I had warned him that I would have a reaction like this, and how the consequences of this shortcut could affect us throughout the evening, the following day and week, and possibly even longer.
I'll never forget at one point, while I was catching my breath, he even asked if it would make me feel better if I just slapped him.
I didn't say anything. I didn't slap him, but I did look at his face and consider it. I thought it might make me feel better, but then, forever, I would have slapped him which couldn't be good for our relationship. It might cause him to wreck, or it might even leave a mark.
I was upset, but it would have been embarrassing for both of us for him to have to say "my fiance slapped me" when someone asked him what was wrong with his face.
I had quieted by the time we made it into Saint Louis, although my tears had not yet completely dried up. Johnie was unsure how to get to Interstate 64 to take us into Kentucky. It wasn't hard for us to figure out, but I did give him grief about it.
It was while we were making these interchanges in Saint Louis that my sweet mother called. I didn't want to answer the phone until we were safely on I-64 and ignored the call. Just inside Illinois, I willed composure before dialing my mom back.
I explained to Johnie I didn't want to lose it when I talked to her. It surely wouldn't score him any future son-in-law bonus points. I practiced what I would say and how I would say it.
Had we taken my route, we would have been pretty close to the Kentucky state line at this point. I knew my mom was calling to ask where we were. I could say Illinois, which was close to Indiana, which was where we should have been.
If she inquired further, I could say that we had taken a different route and were a little behind schedule.
When I heard my mother's cheery voice on the other end, she didn't ask, "where are you?" She asked, "well, are you in Kentucky yet?"
"No," I replied. I fought the flood for a couple seconds, but then succumbed. I lost it. I began the incomprehensible monologue once more.
Laughably now, my mom interrupted me after a minute, "are you driving?"
"No," I said, "Johnie is. How do you think I got in this mess? If I were driving we'd almost be home!" I had forgotten about good son-in-law points. And while I didn't really intend to throw my future husband under the bus, I still smile at the vindication my grandfather gave me that night by saying, "well, he'll learn to listen to my baby from now on."
We survived that trip, the lack of sleep that night, and our lives the following day. And, as is often the case with him (and with me), Johnie learned a valuable lesson the hard way.
Johnie and I have traveled many miles together in our short marriage, and gone on many road trips since that one. Never again has he questioned my navigation and planning.
How I Came to be a Wichitan...
Johnie and I had discussed many details about the future of our relationship before that fateful weekend in September. Despite what my ex-boyfriends might say about me, I was very willing to find workable compromises. Of course there was the issue of where to live and when to get married. Johnie would have liked to marry me Labor Day weekend 2006. I didn't mind waiting. We were both pretty open about where to live. I loved Kentucky, but was willing to uproot, and Johnie wasn't attached to Kansas but was reluctant to give up his job.
I was open to moving to Kansas, but a priority for me was finishing my degree. I felt honored to be able to study at the University of Kentucky with a teaching assistantship, and two years of work seemed very doable to me after the four years I had just finished. I could have even taken summer classes and finished the work by December 2007. I suggested we plan the wedding for after my graduation and then we could live in Kansas. That would give us plenty of time to work out all the details. Of the wedding, of the move, and of our relationship.
Turns out Johnie was much more concerned with our wedding date than his residence or his place of employment. He wanted to marry me much sooner than December 2007.
Our compromise was to marry before I finished my degree, but to make our home in Kentucky to allow me to finish my studies. My mother likes to remind me often of our original plan that didn't involve me moving. But, as is more often the case than not, things didn't go as I had planned.
Johnie began looking for jobs in Kentucky in late July or early August. I have to give him credit, he really did try. He called up local cable companies, and even applied for positions that both of us knew wouldn't make him happy. There were no job leads.
One morning in October I woke to my phone ringing. It was Johnie.
Those of you who know me know that this is a mistake. It is really best to never call me during my potential sleeping hours, 10 pm to 10 am, just to be on the safe side. I have reduced people to tears for such an offense. I gave him grief about waking me up, but he apologized saying he forgot I was able to sleep in, blah, blah, blah...
Those of you who know me also know that it takes me a few minutes to fully wake up.
In my half-sleeping state, Johnie told me he had something to talk to me about. I asked if it could wait. It couldn't. He proceeded to tell me that his boss felt Johnie was ready to be promoted to a senior level technician. Johnie was excited about this, but didn't see a need in applying if he was just going to leave the company in a couple months.
So, he asked me, "If I apply for the job and get it, can we live in Kansas?"
I blame my lack of judgment for not being fully awake. There was a part of me that assumed Johnie wouldn't get the job anyway. He had been on probation earlier that year for a low performance review. He had worn me down over months of talking up Cox and not being able to find any employment at all in Kentucky.
If he were to get the promotion, it would make his good job even better. And, we were starting to consider what it would be like to begin our marriage only on the earnings I made in my part time job and as a teaching assistant. Those meager wages would have provided for our basics, but it wouldn't have been ideal. Plus, I had wanted a husband who was a provider.
Not fully understanding the ramifications of what I was about to say, I agreed. And so, a seemingly little, seemingly meaningless, gesture went on to change my life forever.
You all already know the end. Johnie did receive the promotion and several more to follow, and we made our home in Kansas.
I did try to renegotiate our wedding date, but Johnie wasn't thrilled with the idea. He won me over by pointing out the opportunities I would have in Kansas to finish my degree.
I didn't realize then just how hard it would be to live so far from my home, nor how attached I was to it. I didn't realize then that I took a lot of things for granted about my home and my friends there.
But, Johnie and I decided to begin making our life in the flatlands. God has blessed our efforts far more than we imagined or could take credit for on our own.
While I still miss Kentucky, and my people there, I do not regret the decision to move. I have met and developed relationships with some amazing people, been afforded wonderful opportunities, and grown up more than I even knew I needed to.
I was open to moving to Kansas, but a priority for me was finishing my degree. I felt honored to be able to study at the University of Kentucky with a teaching assistantship, and two years of work seemed very doable to me after the four years I had just finished. I could have even taken summer classes and finished the work by December 2007. I suggested we plan the wedding for after my graduation and then we could live in Kansas. That would give us plenty of time to work out all the details. Of the wedding, of the move, and of our relationship.
Turns out Johnie was much more concerned with our wedding date than his residence or his place of employment. He wanted to marry me much sooner than December 2007.
Our compromise was to marry before I finished my degree, but to make our home in Kentucky to allow me to finish my studies. My mother likes to remind me often of our original plan that didn't involve me moving. But, as is more often the case than not, things didn't go as I had planned.
Johnie began looking for jobs in Kentucky in late July or early August. I have to give him credit, he really did try. He called up local cable companies, and even applied for positions that both of us knew wouldn't make him happy. There were no job leads.
One morning in October I woke to my phone ringing. It was Johnie.
Those of you who know me know that this is a mistake. It is really best to never call me during my potential sleeping hours, 10 pm to 10 am, just to be on the safe side. I have reduced people to tears for such an offense. I gave him grief about waking me up, but he apologized saying he forgot I was able to sleep in, blah, blah, blah...
Those of you who know me also know that it takes me a few minutes to fully wake up.
In my half-sleeping state, Johnie told me he had something to talk to me about. I asked if it could wait. It couldn't. He proceeded to tell me that his boss felt Johnie was ready to be promoted to a senior level technician. Johnie was excited about this, but didn't see a need in applying if he was just going to leave the company in a couple months.
So, he asked me, "If I apply for the job and get it, can we live in Kansas?"
I blame my lack of judgment for not being fully awake. There was a part of me that assumed Johnie wouldn't get the job anyway. He had been on probation earlier that year for a low performance review. He had worn me down over months of talking up Cox and not being able to find any employment at all in Kentucky.
If he were to get the promotion, it would make his good job even better. And, we were starting to consider what it would be like to begin our marriage only on the earnings I made in my part time job and as a teaching assistant. Those meager wages would have provided for our basics, but it wouldn't have been ideal. Plus, I had wanted a husband who was a provider.
Not fully understanding the ramifications of what I was about to say, I agreed. And so, a seemingly little, seemingly meaningless, gesture went on to change my life forever.
You all already know the end. Johnie did receive the promotion and several more to follow, and we made our home in Kansas.
I did try to renegotiate our wedding date, but Johnie wasn't thrilled with the idea. He won me over by pointing out the opportunities I would have in Kansas to finish my degree.
I didn't realize then just how hard it would be to live so far from my home, nor how attached I was to it. I didn't realize then that I took a lot of things for granted about my home and my friends there.
But, Johnie and I decided to begin making our life in the flatlands. God has blessed our efforts far more than we imagined or could take credit for on our own.
While I still miss Kentucky, and my people there, I do not regret the decision to move. I have met and developed relationships with some amazing people, been afforded wonderful opportunities, and grown up more than I even knew I needed to.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
The Proposal (no exclamation point required)
I need to preface this post. I've been looking forward to writing the first part of this, but not so much the last part. I have never talked about Johnie's actual proposal because it was so disappointing to me.
I love stories. I wanted my proposal to be a great story I could tell over and over again. It isn't. We agreed never to talk about it.
One hesitation I had in writing our story in the first place was how to gracefully skip over the proposal. But my reason for wanting to write all of this down was to preserve it. To remind us what we've been through and how we got to where we are. In a world where so many things are fleeting, I wanted something to be left behind as a testament to the Rose-Karr legacy. (Okay, so maybe it's not a legacy yet, but hopefully it will be when we're finished.)
Shortly after I began writing this blog I decided to embrace the proposal. It was, after all, part of our story. It couldn't really be left out. But then I learned that there are a lot more people than I thought who are actually reading this. I've appreciated the positive feedback but it made me timid to talk about the proposal that I've spent the last 4 years delicately avoiding in any and all conversation. Now -- once I am here -- I feel it has to be shared for what it is.
Johnie bought a plane ticket to fly in over Labor Day weekend. We had planned to have a barbecue with my family the evening he arrived. While my family knew about the food, they did not know the conversation we had planned for them.
Teetering between a country girl with old-fashioned values and a modern independant woman who could take care of herself, I wanted Johnie to ask for my hand in marriage. I didn't want it to be a quick phone call or in-person exchange between Johnie and my father in which Johnie sought permission to marry me.
Frankly, the only person who needed to permit Johnie to marry me was me. And I had done that. But I was still stuck with wanting that initial blessing from my family.
Notice I said family. I didn't mind a blessing from my father, but I had spent much more time with my grandfather through the years. Including him was important to me. And I really felt it completely rude and senseless to leave my mother out of such a big event.
So we planned the barbecue -- where they would all be together at once -- to share the news that we planned to marry.
Johnie was nervous that they wouldn't be supportive. I reassured him that I really didn't care what they thought. I told him the only opinion that mattered to me was my mother's. And I knew she loved him so I was sure she would be excited.
I also informed Johnie I had planned a trip for us to Natural Bridge the last day of his stay, the place our relationship haphazardly began. I didn't know when Johnie was going to propose to me, but I knew he needed all the help he could get in the romance department, so I thought that bringing up the Natural Bridge trip well in advance of his arrival might help.
The big day came and I picked Johnie up at the airport. We had planned to pick up the ring at the mall before the barbecue.
Johnie seemed even more nervous than usual when we first saw each other (throughout our dating relationship, Johnie would begin visibly shaking the first couple of hours we were together in person). I chalked it up to the announcement that would be made later that night. Parked outside the mall, Johnie asked if I was coming in. I didn't think it was appropriate, so he went in by himself.
Back in the car with the ring he said he had planned to ask me to marry him inside the mall, at the jewelry store.
It was worse than I thought. That's a HORRIBLE way to propose! I told him so. I also pointed out that it would have been completely wrong to propose before he asked for my family's blessing. He seemed anxious to get that ring on my finger.
I had long dreamed about my proposal. I would have taken a grand, over the top, utterly romantic gesture. I am also quite fond of humor, and would have loved something predictable and cheesy (something much more likely to come from Johnie). Sizing Johnie up over the last few months, what I expected was something sweet. Him getting down on one knee in the same spot he had said we would never work several months prior would have been a nice little bow around our relationship.
In the car on the way to the barbecue, I began to ponder how I would feel if he popped the question right there in front of my family. I would have been okay with that. That had quite a bit of sweet potential. We both knew we were going to marry. It would be kind of nice for some of my favorite people in the world to be there to witness the big event.
Speaking of my family, I had also long dreamed about the day I would find a prince who would proclaim his undying love to the people who created me, who raised me. I imagined that Johnie would grab my hand at the table, smile into my eyes, turn to my family and let them know he wanted nothing more than to cherish and provide for me for the rest of his life, that his love for me was stronger than for anyone else and he had decided to make me his wife.
That's not how it happened.
We all gathered around the table. As is very common most any day of the week and on any occasion for my mother, there was a big spread. My family had even splurged for steaks. The conversation was light and easy, filled with laughter. I was excited and nervous for what was about to happen. Everyone settled into eating and things quieted. This seemed to me like a great opportunity for our big news. I looked at Johnie.
He seemed extremely interested in his steak. His face was just a few inches from it, and he was cutting it far more vigorously than its tenderness required. Before I had a chance to take his hand, smile into his face, and turn to my family to let them know we had something to tell them, thinking this would divert Johnie's attention away from his plate and to the task at hand, Johnie began talking.
Without looking up he said, "So, Amy and I are thinking about getting married. What do you guys think about that?"
My boyfriend just asked his steak if he could marry me! It was disappointing, but I didn't have time to deal with my disappointment then.
The lull in conversation halted with complete silence at the end of Johnie's question. It even seemed as though the silence had been announced by the clanking of someone's fork against their plate. I looked around the table. My two little brothers sat eerily still, their eyes nervously switching between each other and the table. For some, food was suspended mid air, between mouth and plate. Everyone seemed frozen. Except Johnie, he was still inspecting and cutting his steak.
My dad finally broke the silence with a joke. We all laughed and dinner resumed. Johnie finally looked up from his steak as my grandfather sweetly told him to always take care of me, and if we couldn't get along, to bring me back home, that he better never hurt me.
Throughout a couple more minutes of conversation, my mom continued to sit in silence. The person whose words I cared to hear the most were not there. As I felt the conversation was beginning to shift to a different topic, I interrupted. "Mom, what do you think?"
My precious little mother looked up from her plate, and looked Johnie in the eye. I sat across the table from them and watched as she said, "I don't want Amy to get married."
I think both Johnie's and my heart stopped simultaneously. The one person whose approval we were seeking had denied it.
Thankfully, after a few tense seconds, she continued her thoughts. "I mean, I want Amy to get married, I'm just not ready for her to grow up."
Mom and I had a conversation later, by ourselves, about how she felt about me marrying Johnie, and she did, in fact, approve.
On Sunday, after church, Johnie and I had lunch with friends at their house. They reminsced about their relationship and brought out picture albums for us to look through. It was a nice afternoon. At one point, both our friends had gone upstairs to retrieve more memorabilia. I look over at Johnie, a comment about the latest set of pictures on the tip of my tongue.
He is down on one knee. He has the ring out. "Amy, will you marry me?"
I panicked.
You do not go over to your friends' house and then just randomly propose when they step out of the room. What happens when they come back? Surprise, we just thought we'd get engaged while you were freshening up!
My eyes darted between the stairs and Johnie as I began deciding the best way to get the ring back in his pocket before one of them came down and this situation became even worse. "Put the ring back in your pocket!" I whispered.
Johnie's whole face changed. "But, Amy... will you marry me?"
I cover the ring with my hand. "Yes, of course I will marry you. Just please put the ring away."
Johnie was still very confused, "but..."
I felt like there was a time bomb ticking and I didn't know how much longer I had until one of our friends came back downstairs and it exploded, until I was stuck with this being my proposal. "Johnie, I will marry you. I just don't want it to be like this. Please put the ring away before someone comes downstairs. We can talk about this later."
I could tell I had ruined his day. We did manage to get through the rest of the afternoon until we could be alone together again in the car. I let him know how I felt. How that felt very embarrassing for me. How that I wanted it to be a story we could share throughout the years to come. This was a big deal. This was the official beginning of our commitment to each other.
He explained that he thought getting engaged at some of my best friends' house seemed sweet to him. He thought that since they had been so involved throughout our entire relationship I would like it. He also thought I would have enjoyed showing off the ring to the other friends we all met up with later that afternoon.
It was Johnie logic. I understood it. It just felt very awkward to me. Maybe if my friends had known what was about to happen, maybe if there had been a big plan, a sweet monologue about Johnie's love for me that had been missing from every significant event in our relationship so far, maybe it would have worked. I just couldn't get past the fact that you don't go over to someone else's house for dinner, and then get engaged in their dining room while they're busily unaware prepping the salad in their kitchen.
We decided that we would pretend this never happened. We would not talk about it. He could propose again later. My not accepting his proposal had nothing to do with him, I still wanted to marry him, I just wanted a sweet romantic proposal.
I began talking again about our trip to Natural Bridge the following day. He seemed really eager to propose, so I was sure he'd do it then. I provided many not so subtle hints. I talked about friends who had gotten engaged at Natural Bridge. I talked about taking the same trail we had taken when we started our relationship. Surely, with enough work, I could get a sweet proposal out of him.
Later that evening, back at my apartment, I go into my bedroom to put something away. Johnie follows me. When I turn around he is sitting on my bed holding the ring. He looks up from the diamond to my face. He holds the ring out a couple inches and asks quietly, "will you marry me now?"
I've often said that if we ever do have children, if we ever do have a little boy, and that little boy has a face like Johnie's, he will have me wrapped around his little finger doing whatever he wants to do. He will be spoiled rotten because he'll be able to get me to give in to whatever he wants.
I wanted to say, "no, Johnie, not this way. Can you not get this right? Do you not understand we are going to Natural Bridge tomorrow? Do you not understand that just holding out my ring, not even down on one knee, while you're sitting on my bed, which will raise some people's suspicions, by the way, is not sweet or romantic?"
But, I looked at his face. Looked into his eyes. He seemed a bit defeated, confused, unsure. I had put that doubt there. I had hurt him by not accepting the proposal earlier that day.
I stood there considering my choices. If I said yes, then this would be my proposal. There would be no going back. If I said no, then Johnie would try again. He might get it wrong again and I would be at these same crossroads again.
He might get it right. He might get it amazingly right, and when I showed off the ring to all my friends and they asked how he proposed, I could tell them. They would gush about how romantic Johnie was, what a catch I got.
I considered that, how it would feel to brag about an amazing proposal. Didn't I deserve that?
For me, an amazing proposal would have been bittersweet at this point. If I did get one, and I did share it with others, and they did gush, I would always know that that wasn't the real proposal. That we had several takes before the final cut. That I kept making Johnie try again until he got it right.
I didn't want to be that girl.
While I am plagued with caring about what others think about me, I try extremely hard to never be fake, to always be genuine. To claim an amazing proposal in this way would not really be real.
So, I stood there, still considering my options. While I hadn't realized up until this point just how un-romantic Johnie was, I knew romance wasn't his forte. I had had romance before. Smooth talkers, fancy dates, big bouquets of expensive flowers, gifts, love letters, the whole nine yards. I could have it again. But I didn't want it.
I wanted Johnie.
And, so, in that moment, I said yes. I said yes to Johnie. He put the ring on my finger, and I held his face in my hands and we kissed.
I may never have amazingly romantic experiences in my life, but I do have an amazing husband. I may not have gotten Prince Charming, but I did get someone who is completely and utterly, 100% devoted to me. Someone who cherishes me, who makes me a priority in his life, who stands by me, supports me, and encourages me. Someone who knows my downfalls and shortcomings, but never criticizes me. Someone who loves me like I dreamed my husband would.
I may not have gotten the right proposal, but I did get the right husband. I realized Labor Day weekend 2006 which one was most important.
I love stories. I wanted my proposal to be a great story I could tell over and over again. It isn't. We agreed never to talk about it.
One hesitation I had in writing our story in the first place was how to gracefully skip over the proposal. But my reason for wanting to write all of this down was to preserve it. To remind us what we've been through and how we got to where we are. In a world where so many things are fleeting, I wanted something to be left behind as a testament to the Rose-Karr legacy. (Okay, so maybe it's not a legacy yet, but hopefully it will be when we're finished.)
Shortly after I began writing this blog I decided to embrace the proposal. It was, after all, part of our story. It couldn't really be left out. But then I learned that there are a lot more people than I thought who are actually reading this. I've appreciated the positive feedback but it made me timid to talk about the proposal that I've spent the last 4 years delicately avoiding in any and all conversation. Now -- once I am here -- I feel it has to be shared for what it is.
Johnie bought a plane ticket to fly in over Labor Day weekend. We had planned to have a barbecue with my family the evening he arrived. While my family knew about the food, they did not know the conversation we had planned for them.
Teetering between a country girl with old-fashioned values and a modern independant woman who could take care of herself, I wanted Johnie to ask for my hand in marriage. I didn't want it to be a quick phone call or in-person exchange between Johnie and my father in which Johnie sought permission to marry me.
Frankly, the only person who needed to permit Johnie to marry me was me. And I had done that. But I was still stuck with wanting that initial blessing from my family.
Notice I said family. I didn't mind a blessing from my father, but I had spent much more time with my grandfather through the years. Including him was important to me. And I really felt it completely rude and senseless to leave my mother out of such a big event.
So we planned the barbecue -- where they would all be together at once -- to share the news that we planned to marry.
Johnie was nervous that they wouldn't be supportive. I reassured him that I really didn't care what they thought. I told him the only opinion that mattered to me was my mother's. And I knew she loved him so I was sure she would be excited.
I also informed Johnie I had planned a trip for us to Natural Bridge the last day of his stay, the place our relationship haphazardly began. I didn't know when Johnie was going to propose to me, but I knew he needed all the help he could get in the romance department, so I thought that bringing up the Natural Bridge trip well in advance of his arrival might help.
The big day came and I picked Johnie up at the airport. We had planned to pick up the ring at the mall before the barbecue.
Johnie seemed even more nervous than usual when we first saw each other (throughout our dating relationship, Johnie would begin visibly shaking the first couple of hours we were together in person). I chalked it up to the announcement that would be made later that night. Parked outside the mall, Johnie asked if I was coming in. I didn't think it was appropriate, so he went in by himself.
Back in the car with the ring he said he had planned to ask me to marry him inside the mall, at the jewelry store.
It was worse than I thought. That's a HORRIBLE way to propose! I told him so. I also pointed out that it would have been completely wrong to propose before he asked for my family's blessing. He seemed anxious to get that ring on my finger.
I had long dreamed about my proposal. I would have taken a grand, over the top, utterly romantic gesture. I am also quite fond of humor, and would have loved something predictable and cheesy (something much more likely to come from Johnie). Sizing Johnie up over the last few months, what I expected was something sweet. Him getting down on one knee in the same spot he had said we would never work several months prior would have been a nice little bow around our relationship.
In the car on the way to the barbecue, I began to ponder how I would feel if he popped the question right there in front of my family. I would have been okay with that. That had quite a bit of sweet potential. We both knew we were going to marry. It would be kind of nice for some of my favorite people in the world to be there to witness the big event.
Speaking of my family, I had also long dreamed about the day I would find a prince who would proclaim his undying love to the people who created me, who raised me. I imagined that Johnie would grab my hand at the table, smile into my eyes, turn to my family and let them know he wanted nothing more than to cherish and provide for me for the rest of his life, that his love for me was stronger than for anyone else and he had decided to make me his wife.
That's not how it happened.
We all gathered around the table. As is very common most any day of the week and on any occasion for my mother, there was a big spread. My family had even splurged for steaks. The conversation was light and easy, filled with laughter. I was excited and nervous for what was about to happen. Everyone settled into eating and things quieted. This seemed to me like a great opportunity for our big news. I looked at Johnie.
He seemed extremely interested in his steak. His face was just a few inches from it, and he was cutting it far more vigorously than its tenderness required. Before I had a chance to take his hand, smile into his face, and turn to my family to let them know we had something to tell them, thinking this would divert Johnie's attention away from his plate and to the task at hand, Johnie began talking.
Without looking up he said, "So, Amy and I are thinking about getting married. What do you guys think about that?"
My boyfriend just asked his steak if he could marry me! It was disappointing, but I didn't have time to deal with my disappointment then.
The lull in conversation halted with complete silence at the end of Johnie's question. It even seemed as though the silence had been announced by the clanking of someone's fork against their plate. I looked around the table. My two little brothers sat eerily still, their eyes nervously switching between each other and the table. For some, food was suspended mid air, between mouth and plate. Everyone seemed frozen. Except Johnie, he was still inspecting and cutting his steak.
My dad finally broke the silence with a joke. We all laughed and dinner resumed. Johnie finally looked up from his steak as my grandfather sweetly told him to always take care of me, and if we couldn't get along, to bring me back home, that he better never hurt me.
Throughout a couple more minutes of conversation, my mom continued to sit in silence. The person whose words I cared to hear the most were not there. As I felt the conversation was beginning to shift to a different topic, I interrupted. "Mom, what do you think?"
My precious little mother looked up from her plate, and looked Johnie in the eye. I sat across the table from them and watched as she said, "I don't want Amy to get married."
I think both Johnie's and my heart stopped simultaneously. The one person whose approval we were seeking had denied it.
Thankfully, after a few tense seconds, she continued her thoughts. "I mean, I want Amy to get married, I'm just not ready for her to grow up."
Mom and I had a conversation later, by ourselves, about how she felt about me marrying Johnie, and she did, in fact, approve.
On Sunday, after church, Johnie and I had lunch with friends at their house. They reminsced about their relationship and brought out picture albums for us to look through. It was a nice afternoon. At one point, both our friends had gone upstairs to retrieve more memorabilia. I look over at Johnie, a comment about the latest set of pictures on the tip of my tongue.
He is down on one knee. He has the ring out. "Amy, will you marry me?"
I panicked.
You do not go over to your friends' house and then just randomly propose when they step out of the room. What happens when they come back? Surprise, we just thought we'd get engaged while you were freshening up!
My eyes darted between the stairs and Johnie as I began deciding the best way to get the ring back in his pocket before one of them came down and this situation became even worse. "Put the ring back in your pocket!" I whispered.
Johnie's whole face changed. "But, Amy... will you marry me?"
I cover the ring with my hand. "Yes, of course I will marry you. Just please put the ring away."
Johnie was still very confused, "but..."
I felt like there was a time bomb ticking and I didn't know how much longer I had until one of our friends came back downstairs and it exploded, until I was stuck with this being my proposal. "Johnie, I will marry you. I just don't want it to be like this. Please put the ring away before someone comes downstairs. We can talk about this later."
I could tell I had ruined his day. We did manage to get through the rest of the afternoon until we could be alone together again in the car. I let him know how I felt. How that felt very embarrassing for me. How that I wanted it to be a story we could share throughout the years to come. This was a big deal. This was the official beginning of our commitment to each other.
He explained that he thought getting engaged at some of my best friends' house seemed sweet to him. He thought that since they had been so involved throughout our entire relationship I would like it. He also thought I would have enjoyed showing off the ring to the other friends we all met up with later that afternoon.
It was Johnie logic. I understood it. It just felt very awkward to me. Maybe if my friends had known what was about to happen, maybe if there had been a big plan, a sweet monologue about Johnie's love for me that had been missing from every significant event in our relationship so far, maybe it would have worked. I just couldn't get past the fact that you don't go over to someone else's house for dinner, and then get engaged in their dining room while they're busily unaware prepping the salad in their kitchen.
We decided that we would pretend this never happened. We would not talk about it. He could propose again later. My not accepting his proposal had nothing to do with him, I still wanted to marry him, I just wanted a sweet romantic proposal.
I began talking again about our trip to Natural Bridge the following day. He seemed really eager to propose, so I was sure he'd do it then. I provided many not so subtle hints. I talked about friends who had gotten engaged at Natural Bridge. I talked about taking the same trail we had taken when we started our relationship. Surely, with enough work, I could get a sweet proposal out of him.
Later that evening, back at my apartment, I go into my bedroom to put something away. Johnie follows me. When I turn around he is sitting on my bed holding the ring. He looks up from the diamond to my face. He holds the ring out a couple inches and asks quietly, "will you marry me now?"
I've often said that if we ever do have children, if we ever do have a little boy, and that little boy has a face like Johnie's, he will have me wrapped around his little finger doing whatever he wants to do. He will be spoiled rotten because he'll be able to get me to give in to whatever he wants.
I wanted to say, "no, Johnie, not this way. Can you not get this right? Do you not understand we are going to Natural Bridge tomorrow? Do you not understand that just holding out my ring, not even down on one knee, while you're sitting on my bed, which will raise some people's suspicions, by the way, is not sweet or romantic?"
But, I looked at his face. Looked into his eyes. He seemed a bit defeated, confused, unsure. I had put that doubt there. I had hurt him by not accepting the proposal earlier that day.
I stood there considering my choices. If I said yes, then this would be my proposal. There would be no going back. If I said no, then Johnie would try again. He might get it wrong again and I would be at these same crossroads again.
He might get it right. He might get it amazingly right, and when I showed off the ring to all my friends and they asked how he proposed, I could tell them. They would gush about how romantic Johnie was, what a catch I got.
I considered that, how it would feel to brag about an amazing proposal. Didn't I deserve that?
For me, an amazing proposal would have been bittersweet at this point. If I did get one, and I did share it with others, and they did gush, I would always know that that wasn't the real proposal. That we had several takes before the final cut. That I kept making Johnie try again until he got it right.
I didn't want to be that girl.
While I am plagued with caring about what others think about me, I try extremely hard to never be fake, to always be genuine. To claim an amazing proposal in this way would not really be real.
So, I stood there, still considering my options. While I hadn't realized up until this point just how un-romantic Johnie was, I knew romance wasn't his forte. I had had romance before. Smooth talkers, fancy dates, big bouquets of expensive flowers, gifts, love letters, the whole nine yards. I could have it again. But I didn't want it.
I wanted Johnie.
And, so, in that moment, I said yes. I said yes to Johnie. He put the ring on my finger, and I held his face in my hands and we kissed.
I may never have amazingly romantic experiences in my life, but I do have an amazing husband. I may not have gotten Prince Charming, but I did get someone who is completely and utterly, 100% devoted to me. Someone who cherishes me, who makes me a priority in his life, who stands by me, supports me, and encourages me. Someone who knows my downfalls and shortcomings, but never criticizes me. Someone who loves me like I dreamed my husband would.
I may not have gotten the right proposal, but I did get the right husband. I realized Labor Day weekend 2006 which one was most important.
And the relationship blossoms...
Back in our respective K-states, Johnie and I resumed daily communications through e-mail, internet, and phone. We had already shared quite a bit of our past experiences with one another, as well as our present fears, and future dreams.
While I had spent the past 6 months complacently going out with a guy here or there with no real intention or expectation outside of the meal or movie we shared, I was serious about serious relationships, and so was Johnie. We both had made relationship mistakes in the past. We both had dated other individuals to the point of planning to marry them, and then broken it off. We didn't want to repeat those same mistakes.
We weren't sure if we were going to get it right with each other, but we did want to do better with each other. We talked pretty openly and honestly about our expectations in the relationship. I gave Johnie a bit of slack for being a city boy from out west, and let him know how gentlemen acted (i.e., I would not be opening any doors, pumping any gas, or taking out any trash when he was around).
We discussed more serious matters as well. There had not been very much communication in Johnie's previous relationship. That was pretty much a non-issue with us. There had been some conflict in my previous relationship. Johnie and I made a pact then, before we even had our first fight, that we would never raise our voices at one another. There had been huge spiritual disagreements in both of our previous relationships. While there were things Johnie and I didn't see eye to eye on, it wasn't difficult for us to peacefully respect one another's spiritual lives and beliefs.
Johnie flew me out to see him in Wichita in June. We celebrated his birthday. It was a nice trip. We went to the zoo and watched one of the elephant shows. (I love elephants. Weird, I know.) Johnie engaged the handler in conversation after the show, and after a few minutes worked up the courage to ask if we could pet the elephants. After explaining the long process one must go through to interact with the elephants, the handler finally allowed us to feed and pet them. I loved the experience, and Johnie was beaming with pride that he had made something like this happen.
As the summer progressed, more and more information was laid on the table. Our compatibility strengthened. The relationship seemed to be at a point where there wasn't too much more left to be said and we were left with the looming question: Is this it?
We began considering that question. Everything pointed to yes. The attraction was there. The chemistry was there. We wanted the same things from life. We had very similar values and beliefs.
For about a month toward the end of summer, we prayerfully considered whether or not we should marry. We both understood what a big decision this was. We both believed in the sanctity of marriage. We knew marriage was for life.
I am thankful that I had several wonderful examples of christian couples who had already pondered and answered that very same question. I turned to them for advice and guidance. Johnie and I used much of the counsel they provided, including a series of fasts focused on our relationship and what direction we wanted to take it.
All signs still pointed to yes. It seemed we had both found the one we were to marry.
It was an exciting time for me. Even though I was juggling my first semester of graduate school, a teaching assistantship, and another part time job, I was walking on air. The sun shone brighter, colors were more vibrant, life was just great. Unfortunately my work that semester reflected that school wasn't quite as high a priority as Johnie.
Although we had decided that we were in it for the long haul, nothing was official yet. Johnie planned to fly in Labor Day weekend. We did not decide to get engaged that weekend, but we did make plans to share our news with my family. I picked out my ring. That's a difficult thing to do when your boyfriend is 800 miles away and you're at a regional jewelry store when you find the perfect symbol for your love. The jewelry store was quite gracious to us, though, and Johnie was able to secure the ring over the phone and pick it up when he flew in in September.
Somewhat naive to what lay before us, we were about to make one of the biggest commitments of our lives.
While I had spent the past 6 months complacently going out with a guy here or there with no real intention or expectation outside of the meal or movie we shared, I was serious about serious relationships, and so was Johnie. We both had made relationship mistakes in the past. We both had dated other individuals to the point of planning to marry them, and then broken it off. We didn't want to repeat those same mistakes.
We weren't sure if we were going to get it right with each other, but we did want to do better with each other. We talked pretty openly and honestly about our expectations in the relationship. I gave Johnie a bit of slack for being a city boy from out west, and let him know how gentlemen acted (i.e., I would not be opening any doors, pumping any gas, or taking out any trash when he was around).
We discussed more serious matters as well. There had not been very much communication in Johnie's previous relationship. That was pretty much a non-issue with us. There had been some conflict in my previous relationship. Johnie and I made a pact then, before we even had our first fight, that we would never raise our voices at one another. There had been huge spiritual disagreements in both of our previous relationships. While there were things Johnie and I didn't see eye to eye on, it wasn't difficult for us to peacefully respect one another's spiritual lives and beliefs.
Johnie flew me out to see him in Wichita in June. We celebrated his birthday. It was a nice trip. We went to the zoo and watched one of the elephant shows. (I love elephants. Weird, I know.) Johnie engaged the handler in conversation after the show, and after a few minutes worked up the courage to ask if we could pet the elephants. After explaining the long process one must go through to interact with the elephants, the handler finally allowed us to feed and pet them. I loved the experience, and Johnie was beaming with pride that he had made something like this happen.
As the summer progressed, more and more information was laid on the table. Our compatibility strengthened. The relationship seemed to be at a point where there wasn't too much more left to be said and we were left with the looming question: Is this it?
We began considering that question. Everything pointed to yes. The attraction was there. The chemistry was there. We wanted the same things from life. We had very similar values and beliefs.
For about a month toward the end of summer, we prayerfully considered whether or not we should marry. We both understood what a big decision this was. We both believed in the sanctity of marriage. We knew marriage was for life.
I am thankful that I had several wonderful examples of christian couples who had already pondered and answered that very same question. I turned to them for advice and guidance. Johnie and I used much of the counsel they provided, including a series of fasts focused on our relationship and what direction we wanted to take it.
All signs still pointed to yes. It seemed we had both found the one we were to marry.
It was an exciting time for me. Even though I was juggling my first semester of graduate school, a teaching assistantship, and another part time job, I was walking on air. The sun shone brighter, colors were more vibrant, life was just great. Unfortunately my work that semester reflected that school wasn't quite as high a priority as Johnie.
Although we had decided that we were in it for the long haul, nothing was official yet. Johnie planned to fly in Labor Day weekend. We did not decide to get engaged that weekend, but we did make plans to share our news with my family. I picked out my ring. That's a difficult thing to do when your boyfriend is 800 miles away and you're at a regional jewelry store when you find the perfect symbol for your love. The jewelry store was quite gracious to us, though, and Johnie was able to secure the ring over the phone and pick it up when he flew in in September.
Somewhat naive to what lay before us, we were about to make one of the biggest commitments of our lives.
Miles separate us once more...
Johnie's final day in Kentucky was nice. Dampness still hung in the air, but things didn't seem quite as dreary as they had the day before. We went to the zoo. It wasn't spectacular.
But, Johnie began letting his guard down a little, opening up more. All of the information I had been fishing for the last five months began to surface: He really was attracted to me. He really did want to have a relationship with me. He was able to articulate his feelings much better that last day than "we will never work." I let him drive my car. My friends said they were unsure of my feelings for Johnie until they saw him in the driver's seat of my precious "Sonny." They knew I was serious if I was willing to let him drive.
The evening before he was to fly back to Kansas, we discussed how our relationship would change now that we were a couple. I felt like his commitment to me (as weak as "I'm willing to try if you are" is) was enough to merit more phone calls on my part. I wouldn't be a silly girl chasing a boy, I'd be checking in with my boyfriend. That's a completely different scenario.
At one point Johnie mentioned that he would have to let all of his other girlfriends know that we were exclusive now. I didn't know he was joking. I imagined he might have been sending similar e-mails to other girls during the past few months, dating local ladies, or chatting with others as he chatted with me.
Often when we were on instant messanger together, his replies were short. While he was always waiting for me online and usually the first to say hello, he seldom engaged me further in conversation.
I learned there were no other girls, there were no other conversations. He admitted to me a few months ago that in actuality he was staring at his computer screen the whole time just waiting for the next thing I would type.
"Yeah, I will too," I answered. We laughed.
After a brief pause, Johnie said, "wait. What? Are you not joking?" As I mentioned a few posts back, I had gone out on a few casual dates when opportunities arose. There was only one guy that I even wanted to go out with again.
I don't remember his name, even then I called him firefighter guy. As you might guess, he was a firefighter. Masculinity dripped off of him. And he was one of the most chivalrous, respectful men I have ever dated. I knew right away that I could never have anything serious with firefighter guy, but he had a really nice motorcycle I wanted to ride.
Kentucky girl that I am, I love dresses and dolls, lace and flowers, but I also love camping, fishing, hiking, shooting guns, 4-wheeling, and motorcycles. I had planned to take a motorcycle course at EKU my final semester, but was unable to fit it into my schedule with the internship I was offered. And, I was smart enough to know that the internship would serve me much better than learning how to ride a motorcycle. Anyway, when firefighter guy asked me out on a date, I accepted, hoping I'd get a chance to ride his bike.
He and I met at the Applebee's for our first date. He was waiting on me when I got there and had "cleaned up." It was lunchtime, so I was hoping for a ride later that day. I quickly learned that wasn't going to happen. He had wrecked the bike earlier that day and it was in the shop now. It'd be awhile before it was fixed.
As dinner progressed, I realized that while he felt much more like a friend than a date, I didn't mind waiting to go for a ride.
After our first date, he asked me out again. He called me up one Saturday shortly after and asked if I wanted to see a movie: RV was playing. He hadn't even offered to make even a tiny move our first date, and even though he didn't technically know which apartment I lived in, he knew which building I was in. He lived just across the street, was big and strong, and worked for the fire department. (RV wasn't the only choice in movies that weekend, either. He could have invited me to something much more adult-focused.) If he had any bad intentions, he could have fulfilled them whether we rode separately or not.
I told him he could pick me up. He did. In his truck. The motorcycle was still in the shop.
He sent me a message a few days before Johnie's arrival to let me know the bike was up and running again. I hadn't expected things to progress to the point that Johnie and I were "exclusive" over the course of the weekend and was looking forward to finally getting to go for a ride. As I mentioned in the previous post, Johnie was aware of all of this.
"Well, there's firefighter guy," I said, "but I don't have any feelings for him, and his bike is finally fixed. Maybe I could tell him no more dates after we went for a ride?"
Johnie didn't like that idea. I reasoned that there were plenty of other motorcycles to ride and quickly conceded.
The following morning I took Johnie back to the airport.
And, since everyone loves a good first kiss story: We did share our first kiss that trip. It was a quick little "peck." It was okay. I wish I could share some grandiose account about my knees going weak, or there being fireworks, or it being the most amazing kiss of my life. To do so would be a lie. But, I will say, in Johnie's defense, he is responsible for the most amazing kiss of my life. It just didn't happen then.
But, Johnie began letting his guard down a little, opening up more. All of the information I had been fishing for the last five months began to surface: He really was attracted to me. He really did want to have a relationship with me. He was able to articulate his feelings much better that last day than "we will never work." I let him drive my car. My friends said they were unsure of my feelings for Johnie until they saw him in the driver's seat of my precious "Sonny." They knew I was serious if I was willing to let him drive.
The evening before he was to fly back to Kansas, we discussed how our relationship would change now that we were a couple. I felt like his commitment to me (as weak as "I'm willing to try if you are" is) was enough to merit more phone calls on my part. I wouldn't be a silly girl chasing a boy, I'd be checking in with my boyfriend. That's a completely different scenario.
At one point Johnie mentioned that he would have to let all of his other girlfriends know that we were exclusive now. I didn't know he was joking. I imagined he might have been sending similar e-mails to other girls during the past few months, dating local ladies, or chatting with others as he chatted with me.
Often when we were on instant messanger together, his replies were short. While he was always waiting for me online and usually the first to say hello, he seldom engaged me further in conversation.
I learned there were no other girls, there were no other conversations. He admitted to me a few months ago that in actuality he was staring at his computer screen the whole time just waiting for the next thing I would type.
"Yeah, I will too," I answered. We laughed.
After a brief pause, Johnie said, "wait. What? Are you not joking?" As I mentioned a few posts back, I had gone out on a few casual dates when opportunities arose. There was only one guy that I even wanted to go out with again.
I don't remember his name, even then I called him firefighter guy. As you might guess, he was a firefighter. Masculinity dripped off of him. And he was one of the most chivalrous, respectful men I have ever dated. I knew right away that I could never have anything serious with firefighter guy, but he had a really nice motorcycle I wanted to ride.
Kentucky girl that I am, I love dresses and dolls, lace and flowers, but I also love camping, fishing, hiking, shooting guns, 4-wheeling, and motorcycles. I had planned to take a motorcycle course at EKU my final semester, but was unable to fit it into my schedule with the internship I was offered. And, I was smart enough to know that the internship would serve me much better than learning how to ride a motorcycle. Anyway, when firefighter guy asked me out on a date, I accepted, hoping I'd get a chance to ride his bike.
He and I met at the Applebee's for our first date. He was waiting on me when I got there and had "cleaned up." It was lunchtime, so I was hoping for a ride later that day. I quickly learned that wasn't going to happen. He had wrecked the bike earlier that day and it was in the shop now. It'd be awhile before it was fixed.
As dinner progressed, I realized that while he felt much more like a friend than a date, I didn't mind waiting to go for a ride.
After our first date, he asked me out again. He called me up one Saturday shortly after and asked if I wanted to see a movie: RV was playing. He hadn't even offered to make even a tiny move our first date, and even though he didn't technically know which apartment I lived in, he knew which building I was in. He lived just across the street, was big and strong, and worked for the fire department. (RV wasn't the only choice in movies that weekend, either. He could have invited me to something much more adult-focused.) If he had any bad intentions, he could have fulfilled them whether we rode separately or not.
I told him he could pick me up. He did. In his truck. The motorcycle was still in the shop.
He sent me a message a few days before Johnie's arrival to let me know the bike was up and running again. I hadn't expected things to progress to the point that Johnie and I were "exclusive" over the course of the weekend and was looking forward to finally getting to go for a ride. As I mentioned in the previous post, Johnie was aware of all of this.
"Well, there's firefighter guy," I said, "but I don't have any feelings for him, and his bike is finally fixed. Maybe I could tell him no more dates after we went for a ride?"
Johnie didn't like that idea. I reasoned that there were plenty of other motorcycles to ride and quickly conceded.
The following morning I took Johnie back to the airport.
And, since everyone loves a good first kiss story: We did share our first kiss that trip. It was a quick little "peck." It was okay. I wish I could share some grandiose account about my knees going weak, or there being fireworks, or it being the most amazing kiss of my life. To do so would be a lie. But, I will say, in Johnie's defense, he is responsible for the most amazing kiss of my life. It just didn't happen then.
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