My Life with My Valentine

As we were dancing I learned that my partner and his boyfriend snuck into the dance through the back door which was behind the curtain on the dance floor. He spotted me dancing with someone and decided he would take a chance and ask me for the next dance. How old was this sneaky charmer? As it turns out he skipped a grade, and was, therefore, less than two months older than me. Well, at least he was older.

What could I say the guy was tall, dark and handsome, so who was I to say no thank you for the rest of the night's dances. In those days we had less fear of going home with someone we met at a dance, especially at these type of dances. So when this great looking guy asked if he could drive me home in his new pink Chevy Impala, I barely drooled out a yes.

After he dropped me off at my house, gave me a peck on my cheek and asked me for my phone number, he left in his new Chevy Impala pink car, waved goodbye and said he would call. One week went by, then two and no calls. I was disappointed, but I was also young and way too busy to fret over one lost opportunity.

Just as I thought there would be others, the phone rang and my dance partner asked me for a date. The first of many. Then he gave me a ring we purchased together in a store near where I lived and we went steady. I met his parents, talked on the phone, went out at least twice a week. I went to his senior prom and was runner up for Miss 213. He was in the class of 213 at his High School. I only lost, he said, because the winner's boyfriend was a judge. Well, at least it made me feel better.

Life was good. I was a senior in high school, had a gorgeous steady boyfriend on his way to college to study physics. But alas the relationship took a detour. But first I must get to the part where I learned how to drive my father's car which was a stick shift.

The very first time I took it out, my boyfriend, who by the way was named Ray, was sitting beside me as I drove into a parking lot and hit the car coming out. It was only a fender bender, but I was devastated. We told my father who took it very well. He would have it fixed and I could drive it again.

I tell this story because if I did not drive it again Ray and I would not have had our argument. It was not my father's car that caused the argument but the car I eventually purchased. I don't know why and if I ask him he doesn't seem to remember why this made him angry, so angry that we broke up over the fact that I bought this car. It was a used car and not nearly as nice as the one he had, but still he was upset. Thus we ended our close to three year steady relationship over my new,used car.

I was eighteen when we broke up. Still young and just out of high school. I didn't go to college, at least not then, I went straight to work and straight to the dating scene. I had blind dates, on and off dates, and lots of phone calls from Ray who wanted to see me again. I was too upset to see him again, and so I continued to date until one fateful day at another event put on by my house of worship I met this young man. He was very nice, and we had a great time. He asked me out and we started dating.

I was then twenty, pushing the age when my friends were getting married. By twenty-one I was also married. Big mistake. It took me a year to realize I was not in an "until death do us part" relationship. So one day I packed up my bags, put them in my very small car and headed back to my parents' house. I was devastated. It was not like divorce was really an option in my family. Most of my family didn't know the meaning of the word. But my parents never said a thing when I arranged for a mover to take the rest of what was mine out of the apartment into storage. I moved back home, got a divorce.

Eventually, not right away, I wrote a letter to the person I should have married in the first place. Fortunately, he called me the day he received my letter and we met at my workplace for lunch and began dating again. There are no pictures in this module because the past is better left in the past.

We dated for two years, and I finally married the man I should have married, but was too young to know any better. Actually, it was all for the best. Marriage is not for the very young. Time and a little experience can go a long way to keep you from making big mistakes. I had a chance, after my divorce, to gain some idea of what I really wanted.

I did not write that letter the minute I got a divorce, but waited almost a year. I wanted to be sure that I was not jumping into something just because I had a bad experience. I also did not write the letter without first knowing that Ray was free. I was not going to break up anyone's romance. My girlfriend had seen him and asked him how things were and he said he was still dating around. So he and I were free, no strings, nothing to stop us, but first I had to make sure. It did not really take me long to realize exactly what I wanted and so I wrote the letter and he responded and we got married.

It took five years. It seemed like forever. We were so sure it would be easy. All my friends were having babies. I thought that day would never come for us. But it did and I don't think there was ever a happier couple in this world than the day we brought our son home. I thought he was the cutest baby I ever saw and he was all ours.

I still pinch myself whenever I think about it and am so thankful for my son. Ray and I are only children. No brothers no sisters. My son is an only child, no aunts no uncles and only distant cousins. That is the way it goes, but it has been great and I would not trade it for the world. I have the best husband, the best son and the best life anyone could ever hope for. My husband is my special Valentine, and I am thankful for everything we share. I hope all your Valentines will make you as happy as mine does.