Tuesday, August 14

The Story of Us Part I

August 6, 2012 marked 11 years together for Ryan and me.

Eleven years together, six of those married.

I love our story.

From the first 18 years of chance meetings and unbelievable coincidences to the last six years of marriage, parenthood and figuring out, well, everything.

I never want to forget how we came to be or all that we've been through to get here.

And so....The Story of Us......


******

When my mom came to pick me up on the first day of kindergarten (yes, kindergarten) and asked who I was playing with, I dreamily told her 'My Ryan....'

At the tender age of 5, I was in love.

I remember walking home from school and listening to him and his friends sing those nasty boy songs:

"Old Mc Donald sitting on fence, picking his balls with a monkey wrench...."

And my personal favourite:

"Big green globs of greasy grimey gopher guts! Mutilated monkey meat!"

(If you ask Ryan to sing it today, he still knows all the words)

So dreamy.......

And then I met David Bellingham**.

He had red high top Converse.

And he kissed me under the hockey net.

*Swoon*

But he liked Summer Stachinksky**.

Even though he kissed ME under the hockey net.

Boys are fickle.

Then, halfway through fifth grade, we moved and I switched schools.

Ryan did the same around that time.

We went to different middle schools even though we lived just a school field away from each other and had some of the same neighbourhood friends. (Though we never saw each other and didn't discover this until years later.)

About two weeks into tenth grade, sitting on top of a desk in Math 14 listening to the teacher take attendance, I heard a familiar name called.

My head jolted up I searched the room.

My eyes landed on a long-haired skid kid in a flannel jacket with a stupid grin on his face, finger pointed directly at me.

When ours eyes met, he said, "I know you!"

I could feel my cheeks turn bright red and I almost blurted out "OH MY GOD! MY RYAN!"

But I didn't, thankfully.

Instead, I squeaked out a 'Yeah.'

"You went to *insert elementary school here*!"

"Yeah." I say.

Genius, Rebecca. Genius.

A few months later, some stupid, stupid boy paid me the tiniest bit of attention and my brain fell out of my head.

For three years.

(Plus one that I spent with another stupid, stupid boy.)

During the first year of brainlessness, I was ruthlessly (RUTHLESSLY, I tells ya!) pursued by Ryan.

This did not please Stupid, Stupid Boy #1 in the least. Especially since it was unapologetically in his face.

Since it was high school I got the old 'If you don't say something to him, I will.'

So I said something.

I'm pretty sure it was something along the lines of "Look. I know this is stupid. I don't even want to be having this conversation with you because it's so stupid but Stupid, Stupid Boy is pissed at you flirting with me and he said if I don't tell you to stop, he will. And, seriously, he's not going to beat you up or anything because he's stupid but I just don't want to deal with that. So maybe you could just stop doing things in front of him?"

Ryan chuckled, grinned his stupid grin and agreed.

Stupid, Stupid Boy was of NO concern to Ryan, though, so nothing really changed.

And Stupid, Stupid Boy was, well, stupid, so nothing really happened.

Fast forward to an evening in 2001.

I'm at work in an accessories store in a mall.

I'm a super cool chick in my tight black capris and rocker tank with roushed sides and a glittery screen-printed eagle topped off with a crimped and sparkled high ponytail.

I said super cool, didn't I?

I'm restocking the ring section when a guy comes into the store.

I stand up, turn around and see Ryan standing there. Stupid grin as always.

We chat a bit, catch up. I tell him I had somewhat recently broken up with Stupid, Stupid Boy #2 and am in a 2 bedroom apartment by myself. I'm looking for a roommate but, you know, people suck.

Wouldn't you know it...he's looking to move out of his mom's (rather she's moving and he doesn't want to go with) and hey! Maybe he could be my roommate!

I said yes immediately.

I don't know why. It just seemed like a good idea.

He told me he was going camping (with a girl I was not a fan of. Ick) and he'd call me in two weeks.

Two weeks came. And went.

I put the whole thing out of my head and went on with my business.

And then he called.

I gave him a bit of attitude about not calling when he said he would. He apologized and asked if he could come over to talk about the whole roommate thing - if I was still interested.

I made some sarcastic comment about not being interested if he pays his rent with the same urgency he makes phone calls. He laughed and said he'd be right over.

He brought a friend with him, Mike, (a mutual friend from high school with a funny side story) who wouldn't come in the house (because of the funny side story.) Ryan left Mike sitting outside while he came in to check the place out and talk about rent and such.

I told Ryan the deal - this is my apartment, full of my stuff, all you need is your bedroom stuff. You're totally free to use anything but don't ruin my shit or I'll cut you. Your half of the rent and bills is $XX and if you do the dishes and clean the bathrooms, I will do EVERYTHING else - including cook for you.

Good deal, right!?!?!

He thought so, too, and handed me first month's rent in cash.

Sweet!

A few days later he showed up with his stuff and roommates we were.

******

Come back next week for Part II.

"It's like Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place. 

Except the pizza place is a strip club."

**Names changed for privacy

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