One Friday evening, late in 1965, a friend from work phoned me. Her boyfriend had dragged along his brother, a Navy man, just out of boot camp on their date. My friend was looking for a ‘date’ for the brother that very evening, so it would be a foursome and not a ‘third wheel’ situation.
I was reluctant. I was just out of a short and unhappy dating situation with a man named Blaine. Plus, I had never been on a ‘blind date’ and didn’t see any reason to start now. On the other hand, I could spend my Friday evening watching TV with my mother.
Fate was set. The minute our eyes met, it was all over for me. We had a brief, hot, courtship and married on January 9, 1966. Unfortunately, I was in love with him, and he was in lust with me. Add to that, we had absolutely nothing in common, a disaster and heartbreak in the making.
Surprisingly, I still love the man he WAS (no, not the man I thought he was, nor the man I wanted him to be), but the man he was at the time. Now, he is on his third wife. I never remarried though there were a couple of ‘serious’ relationships along the way.
I still have a large packet of his ‘love letters’, written all those many years ago, tied with a red ribbon, put away in a box. Every once in awhile, on a rainy day, and with a box of tissues at hand, I reread them…
I was reluctant. I was just out of a short and unhappy dating situation with a man named Blaine. Plus, I had never been on a ‘blind date’ and didn’t see any reason to start now. On the other hand, I could spend my Friday evening watching TV with my mother.
Fate was set. The minute our eyes met, it was all over for me. We had a brief, hot, courtship and married on January 9, 1966. Unfortunately, I was in love with him, and he was in lust with me. Add to that, we had absolutely nothing in common, a disaster and heartbreak in the making.
Surprisingly, I still love the man he WAS (no, not the man I thought he was, nor the man I wanted him to be), but the man he was at the time. Now, he is on his third wife. I never remarried though there were a couple of ‘serious’ relationships along the way.
I still have a large packet of his ‘love letters’, written all those many years ago, tied with a red ribbon, put away in a box. Every once in awhile, on a rainy day, and with a box of tissues at hand, I reread them…
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