The topic of discussion. Birthdays...how do I celebrate?
Well, funny thing about my birthday, it holds very special significance for me...in fact, of the romantic kind. How fitting since we are after all romance writers. :) Let me spin you a yarn...one of true love...
The year, 1996. The month, October. The place, a bar just outside the nearest military installation. (Yes, I'm one of those that picked her Marine up in a club. :) ) Enter one Sgt of Marines. He was cute. And cocky! He wouldn't speak to me all night in fact, which infuriated me. The more I flirted the more he resisted my wiles. I'd given up at something past midnight and the bar was clearing out. It was a weeknight afterall and folks did have to work the next day, hungover or not. Enter Dork of Marines...
"Oh, dear Lord, what's this one doing? Go away, go away, go away. Not him. God not him. Where do I go? Can't a flipping hole open up in the floor and swallow me whole...."
"Would you like to dance?" It was the Sgt of Marines that had been ignoring me all night and he'd stepped in Dorks path.
Hmmph! Asshole or dork?
"Yes, I would."
"You didn't need to be with that guy."
As the evening wore on and the clock chimed almost two, I discovered we were the only people left and my friendly neighborhood cocktail waitress was tapping her wrist. I allowed him to drive me home, he was in a condition to do so, but I was adamant in that this was not a "date" and it was not a "sleep over." He kept telling me that he understood and I kept thinking 'sure he did, he was a Marine for Christ sake, all gung-ho and all that, used to pillaging and taking what they wanted.' What the hell was I doing in a car with him?
Oh, yeah, before I thought he was an asshole I thought he was cute.
We talked until he had to leave to go back to base or be late, he wasn't out of the way with me in any shape, form, or fashion. Then right before he stepped off my porch, he kissed me. Oh. My. God. You know those kisses we describe in our writing? The toe-curling ones? The ones that tell our heroine, hang on he is the one?
It was that kiss.
We'd been dating a few weeks when he asked me when my birthday was.
I looked at him like he had three heads. We'd not slept together yet, in fact he'd spent many a night on my carpet and me in the bedroom with the door closed. This was the lamest "bed her" line I'd ever heard in my life.
"No, I'm not."
He did, with the presentation of his driver's license. Oh. My. God. Further proof that it was indeed "the kiss." He still slept in the floor that night.
Fast forward, but not long. We had a very short courtship. Fast forward six weeks...yes, I know I was one of those girls. Christmas. Santa brought a shiny diamond. And I mean the actual Santa, or someone paid to be him. I never saw Santa I just heard him land on the roof with tiny reindeer pawing and bells ringing.
Fast forward, but not long...March 6, 1997...
Would have guessed that it is now my anniversary, too? :)
Call it corny, call it fate, call it what you will...I call it true love...
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