How I met your father

I was working at a pet product company in California.

In walks this scrawny guy.  The “new hire”.

We shared a wall.

And eventually childhood stories.

Turned out?  Our fathers knew each other.  And they had worked together at the same company…huh.

He called me one Saturday to ask if I would help him get his one piece of furniture to his apartment.  From Ikea.  It was a flip down sofa that would become his bed.

I went.  I helped him get it into his apartment, we hung out.

And the rest is history.

Nope.  Not that simple.

We became friends.  And then we became best friends.

And we hung out all the time.

And then we hung out more.

And then I tried to hook him up with one of my friends.

And neither was interested in the other.

And we were still best friends.  When we weren’t together, we were usually on the phone with one another.

And then, one day when he was napping on my bed while I watched a movie in my family room.  I snuck into my bed and lay down next to him.

And he woke up with a slow smile and kissed me.

And the rest is history…

Only that’s not the end of our beginning story either.

We dated happily for a few months of blissful love based on friendship.  Then the company we both worked for announced they were moving, to Texas.

We broke up.  Because he wasn’t sure if he was ready to commit to me.

We continued to be best friends.  somehow.

And then he got over himself and realized that I was everything he always wanted and we got back together.

Also not the end.

We moved in together.  Yay!  Happiness at last.

And about three months later he was offered a transfer.  That he accepted without talking to me about it first.

Holy hell did we fight.

Ugliness.  And more ugliness.

And then that other hateful u word “ultimatum”.

Let’s just say we moved together.  Him with his Ikea couch and me with my shiny new diamond ring.

And that is the end of our beginning story…


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