Catching Idle Butterflies

An affair of the heart

It’s gonna be a lonely weekend. Dave takes off for archery deer hunting in the Badlands until Tuesday. So it’ll be just me and the dog to entertain each other. Poor Rufus. Her favorite toy will be gone, and I’m not nearly as entertaining.

Even now, after 14 years of marriage, I don’t like being away from Dave for very long. It’s going to be a long five days.

We first met when I started working at a picture frame manufacturing plant in 1990. My first impression of him was, “This guy is smart, and funny.” I liked his smile the most. But having a boyfriend at the time, well, my interest didn’t go any farther. He, on the other hand, flirted with me a lot. I was flattered, but consciously no more than that.

Fast forward a year. I considered Dave a good friend. I thought of him often, and by this time not in a platonic way. Still having a boyfriend, though, I told no one. I felt guilty of having ‘an affair of the heart,’ but one can’t help what one feels sometimes. I figured it would someday pass. Most crushes do.

One night all the employees went to a house party. Dave drove me to it since I didn’t know where the house was, and it would save on gas. Afterwards, he drove me back to my car still in the work parking lot. We sat on the hood of my car and talked for at least two hours.

Then at one point I said, “You know, if I wasn’t with someone, and neither were you (he also had a girlfriend), I’d go after you in a second.” It took courage for me to say that. I’m usually not so forward, and I had no idea how he would react.

To my surprise, elation, and a tinge of fear, he stared at me, and said, “Me, too.” Now what do we do?

Aside from a few kisses, we did nothing else. Not only were we both ‘taken,’ but Dave planned on moving out of town to go to school in three months. He didn’t want to break one relationship to be with me, only to break up with me three months later.

Several weeks passed, and I decided to break up with Joe. The sordid details of that relationship, if you’re interested, can be found in "Joe"  and "A murderous soul" 

When I informed Dave I broke up with Joe the next morning, his grin and the sparkle in his eyes made my heart bounce.

He broke up with his girlfriend a few days later.

Even with the eventual move, we were inseparable after that. We both knew it wasn’t wise to get together considering we would only break up, but somehow it didn’t matter.

I moved in with him three weeks later.

Now the time approached for him to move. He asked me to go with him.

I knew my answer immediately, but I gave myself three days just in case. I wanted to give my head a chance to think about it instead of following my heart. I had followed my heart with Joe, and that was a disaster.

Three days later, and my decision didn’t change.

So what do I tell my parents then? They hadn’t even met Dave yet, and now I’m moving 250 miles away.

We invited them out to supper, though it took much cajoling on Dave’s part to get me to agree. At 21 I was still terrified of my parents. I knew how much they despised Joe, and I was afraid they react harshly to Dave. I know, like moving away without telling them or having them meet Dave first would have been any wiser? Yep, I can be silly sometimes.

Anyway, as you would expect, Mom grilled Dave with a few questions.

She knew Joe was in prison for a DUI probation violation, and most of her questions focused on Dave’s criminal activity.

Just as Dave took a bite of his spaghetti, she fired the first volley, “So Dave, have you ever been in jail?”

Unfazed by the question, he calmly finished chewing and swallowed. “Yes,” he said.

I honestly tried not to laugh at the scouring look Mom gave me. I knew where this was going.

Dave clarified by saying, “My internship for my Psychology degree was counseling inmates at a county jail.”

Mom pursed her lips and asked, “Okay. Have you ever been in prison?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Again, I received that scathing look. I looked back and continued my meal, mostly to hide my grin.

“During my last semester of school,” Dave said, “all the students went on a tour of a state prison.”

Mom squinted her eyes at Dave and asked a moment later, “Have you ever committed a felony?”

“Yep. Today in fact.”

“You did?” Again that look, but not nearly as scary. I saw a little smile in there.

“Anne and I had a garage sale,” Dave said, “but her two motorcycle helmets weren’t selling. Since she couldn’t leave, I took the helmets to a pawn shop instead. I had to sign a document stating they were indeed mine. Since they weren’t, I falsified a legal document which is a felony.”

Mom’s grinning at this point and asked her final question. “Okay, have you ever been convicted of a felony?”

“No, ma’am.”

I think Mom liked him at that point.

I knew the moment I decided to move with Dave I would marry him. Dave also told me once that the moment he saw me the first time he thought, “I’m going to marry her.”

Nevertheless, we didn’t talk about marriage until six months later. We agreed to wait until we graduated college to do so. Anything could happen in two-three years, and until then, we would wait.

After a while I began to ask myself why? Why are we waiting? We love each other. We want to get married. What’s the point of putting it off?

So on February 29, 1992, I asked Dave to marry me.

He said yes (just in case you hadn’t figure that out *snicker*).

We did wait until after school ended, though, so we could have a week-long honeymoon traveling to North Dakota, South Dakota and Montana. Because of the timing, we had our honeymoon before our wedding. If you want to read about the fabulous event see "The Perfect Wedding" .

Three days after the wedding, Dave drove to his summer job in Denver, and I drove to mine 250 miles south in Alamosa. We then met back in Trinidad for the weekends.

The first two weeks were tough without him. I cried myself to sleep every night I missed him so badly. Being with him, even before we married was as natural as breathing. I had no doubts from the moment we first kissed.

While I don’t cry myself to sleep when he’s gone anymore, my heart still aches for him, especially at night.

I hope these five days fly by.

I will be busy though. Tom needs help with some landscaping around their new home, and this is a great opportunity to continue to write.

I hope you all are having a great Friday, and to those in the States, have a great Labor Day weekend!