My boyfriend and I are celebrating our one-year anniversary today. I’m so lucky we got this far — we almost blew it last year.
Paul and I met a few weeks after my 30th birthday in June 2010. I was hanging out in the basement of Capitol Lounge to celebrate a friend’s engagement (he was there with a friend; not part of my group). We went out twice over the next several weeks, but due to various complications — both of us having people in our lives that we needed to deal with before starting a serious relationship with someone else — we just…fizzled out. It’s kind of scary how easy it was. Paul invited me out for a third date that would have taken place on a weekend night in July; I told him I had something else to do; I sent him a text on Monday morning to see how his weekend had gone; he didn’t respond. And I never followed-up.
But I didn’t delete his number from my phone. Over the next several months, I ended things for good with the other guy, re-joined Match.com, and went on a few dates with completely unmemorable people. I thought about contacting Paul on numerous occasions, but something always held me back. With other guys I’d dated — especially someone I’d only been out with twice — I never would have contacted them again after such a long time. I thought that if I dated someone and it didn’t work out, I was supposed to forget about them. Move on.
In late October 2010, I eschewed that rule and decided to contact Paul again. I didn’t want to limit myself to a text and I didn’t have his email address, so I looked him up on Facebook and sent him a message. He responded the same day. He was friendly, glad to hear from me, and didn’t bring up the fact that we hadn’t been in touch for months.
We exchanged emails over the next week and finally met for our third date on a random Thursday night after work — November 4, 2010. We now refer to our first two dates as Paul/Zan 1.0 and everything that’s happened in the past year as Paul/Zan 2.0.
November 2010 to November 2011 has been the best year of my life, and I know next year (and beyond) will be just as memorable.
(Isn’t he handsome? I’m a lucky, lucky girl.)