Seventeen years ago, tomorrow: my first date with the most amazing woman I will ever know.
We’d traveled south to get away from work and everything else, and to catch a movie at a pizza place. It’s strange now as I think back; not only did we work at a pizza place, but who the hell wants to go watch a three-hour long flick at pizza parlor? Who sits at a table by the door so that every time someone brings a pie to someone’s table, or every time someone requests more parm…or every.single.time a patron needs a refill… that damn door opens, allowing in a flood of the brightest afternoon winter sun you can imagine? Each was a painfully blinding interruption.
I think we could do nothing but laugh.
Didn’t matter. Lizz had kissed my neck when I gave her a ride home a few days before and while she was trying to simply say thanks, she was obviously saying so much more. I’d never felt anything so electric and it was as clear to me then as it is to me now – this girl deserves immediate attention.
Three hours later, Jack was dead and the ‘Heart of the Ocean’ lay at the bottom of the north Atlantic, but as we sped back to Fitchburg late for our shift, everything felt, well…natural. There was comfort and ease. We’d each found what we’d been looking for.
Pizza had brought Lizz and I together. It swirled around every facet of our lives seventeen years ago and we just had some delivered this past Friday night.
To this day – she cooks
or signs for delivery, and I drive.
We still enjoy the random occasional awkward date and I continue to really like pizza…but I LOVE this woman. She was and will forever be…my favorite.