For those of you whom I haven’t had a chance to tell…I’m getting married!

Huh? Whaaaaa? But…but…but…you barely told us you’re dating someone!

It’s true. This has been nothing if not fast. As one friend told me, “Alli, you’re not a rash person. I’m going to have to trust you here.” He’s right. I’m not one to make decisions quite this quickly, especially since Maya’s arrival nearly two years ago. But here we are, and Mike and I will marry in November.
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Late June:After several false starts with match.com, I made my profile (hidden for the previous several months) visible. The typical disappointing first dates (even one second date) followed, but I’d decided that a partner in life was a priority to me, so I stuck with it.

Late July: I noticed an interesting, attractive, and intelligent man in my “Who’s Viewed Me” list (WVML) on match.com. There was one (big, in my opinion) snag: he lived in Santa Fe, NM. While I’d looked at and/or talked to people even as far as Boulder or Fort Collins (2 hours), I really wasn’t in the market for a long-distance relationship. I shrugged and moved on.
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Around the same time (after significant prodding from a loyal girlfriend), I admitted to myself that while I asked a lot of any man I’d date, I wasn’t necessarily prepared to give the same in return. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to; in some ways, it was inconceivable to me that I could meet someone with whom the relationship would be so mutual. My other significant relationships have always had an enormous imbalance of who was more “into it” that the other. Beyond that, she described these giddy, euphoric feelings of love (she calls it “new relationship energy”), and it dawned on me that I’d *never* had that. Excitement, sure. Fear, tons. But the kind of attraction that pulls people together long enough to forge an iron-clad bond? Not so much.

August 1: I threw it out on the line and wrote out specifically what I wanted to give, and what I wanted to feel, and opened myself up to the idea of being totally into a man (without strings attached). For me, this felt risky, but it also felt right.

After this point, I also decided that instead of sitting back and replying only to those who wrote me whom I deemed worthy (grin), I’d look for myself…shop, so to speak. If I knew what I was looking for, why not…well…look for it?
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August 19: Before heading to bed, I looked at the WVML and noticed that the intriguing man from Santa Fe had paid my profile a visit again. I re-read his profile, and this time, found myself shaking my head, thinking, “this sounds like a life *I* would live.” On top of that, he wrote well, seemed to have a sense of humor *and* emotional health about him, and he reminded me of…well, me a bit, but not enough to feel creepy. I added him to my favorites, then went to bed.

August 20: The next morning, the same man returned to the top of my WVML — ie, after seeing I’d been to see his profile, he read mine. Again. Well, was I taking charge of my dating life, or what? And c’mon…wasn’t I going to drive through Santa Fe *twice* during my upcoming road trip? I wrote to him:

Subject: Wel… (yes, I typo’d. how embarassing.)
…we could just keep passing each other by on the “who’s viewed me” list.

Or, if you’re game, we could have lunch next Monday. I’m passing through Santa Fe on the way to and from Arizona next week, and while I won’t have time on the way down, my schedule is much more flexible on the drive home.

Interested? I know it’s a weekday, so obviously, I’ll understand if you can’t get away from the evil overlords.

Allison

He replied that he was going to be out of town that Monday, but that he was glad I’d written; he’d thought to write to ask me to meet up the following weekend while he was in Denver for a Tango festival. (Yes, you read right: tango.) We traded a couple more emails working out the specifics, and set a date for Friday, September 1. No games…just logistics.
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Afterward, he laughingly suggested that since we’d already set up a date, maybe we should actually — you know — get to know each other a little bit. And thus the emails began. From the start, I felt that I could trust Mike, and I was direct with him in a way I can be with few people — completely uncensored. By the next night, we progressed to a long IM chat (my phone mouthpiece was on the fritz), then a long phone call (I — duh — realized I had a headset). The emails continued the next day, with another lengthy — yet comfortable — conversation that night. By Wednesday night, I was starting to wonder how in the world I’d survive nine whole days until getting to meet this man in person. After a 3 (three!) hour phone call that night, I wrote some thoughts privately to myself, wondering how in the world it could be possible to fall for someone without ever having met. While my brain urged caution, even it didn’t push too hard; everything said that I had nothing to fear here, and in the short time we’d talked, Mike had already shown that I could trust him not only to listen to me, but to accept me as I am, for who I am.

During that phone call, Mike also trusted me with a piece of info that could have gone wrong: his trip that weekend was to meet a woman with whom he’d been conversing on match. She was very nice, but there wasn’t the kind of multi-layered connection that he and I had experienced.
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August 24: Thursday morning, I planned to drive to Albuquerque during the beginning of a five-day road trip necessitated by my dog, Clay. Since I’d stayed up on the phone the night before (no multitasking when talking to Mike…I found myself focusing on him rather than anything else), I still had to pack. It’s a good thing I pack quickly!

Then came the email:

Subject: reckless abandon

Allison,

Attached is a map to my house, with directions.

If you feel like making a detour on your trip today…

(details omitted)

…I realize you will have Maya and Clay and Katie with you, and that you are expected in Albuquerque this evening. But, reckless abandon should give us the license to meet today, at least.

I think my heart stopped. You mean, I was going to meet him…today? Oh. Dear. God. I shot a note back warning him that I’d be travel-weary rather than dolled up, so to expect wrinkled clothing, undone hair, and no makeup. He said that was no problem and that he’d live. I did, actually, change shirts — hey, when a girl has a new shirt she thinks fits well…

As I drove out of Colorado Springs, I realized I hadn’t told my cousin (more like a sister) what was up, so I called her. I think I’m about to meet the man I will marry. She could hear the excitement in my voice, but also warned me to be careful, as any loving friend/family member would.

I fairly well bounced on the drive toward New Mexico, belting out old Ella Fitzgerald standards, singing along with the Eels, and chair-dancing to Kirsti MacColl. Somewhere around Raton, a thought hit me: Mike isn’t going to Boston. He’s going on my road trip with me. Wow. Really? I’m always amazed when I just “know” things like this — I felt this same way before my ultrasound knowing that Maya was a girl, for instance. It didn’t seem impossible, and oddly, it didn’t seem like an insane idea to consider taking this man on a four-day road trip with me. Well, we’d see.
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Around 3:30 that afternoon, I arrived in Santa Fe (after a short gas-up of the car and application of a teeny bit of vanity makeup) to Mike’s home. I was shaking. We met, hugged, and within half an hour, I knew that my instincts had been right. I wanted to keep him. As a nice bonus, he responded to me the same way (grin). I was right about the Boston trip. Somehow, when he’d emailed the gal warning her that he thought he “may have met his life’s partner,” the plans changed quickly. He had a four-day weekend available, and no plans to fill it — except to accompany me on a road trip. I had a good 12-14 hours’ worth of driving to fill, and instead of boring myself silly, I was going to get to learn more about the heart and mind of this man I’d met, and whom I wanted to keep in my life.

We took off for the trip and talked. And talked. And arrived in Tucson, and found a place to stay. And put Maya to bed. And talked. And bounced on the bed on Saturday morning, reflecting that somehow, instead of feeling awkward or weird, it felt just…normal…to laze around on a Saturday morning (Okay, the adults lazed. Maya climbed on us.). It felt like what life was supposed to be, like — dare I say? — a family.

We returned Clay to his breeder, and, at Mike’s request, we returned to New Mexico by way of Phoenix. His nephew’s birthday was coming soon, and Mike wanted to drop off a present at his brother’s house. We picked up a present, then called for directions. Well, guess what? The nephew’s sixth birthday party was that evening, so we stayed around for a few hours, during which I met Mike’s brother, father, stepmother, niece, nephew, and an assortment of friends.

By Sunday evening, we returned to Albuquerque, where some of my family had planned a gathering for folks to meet Maya (after she’s been here for nearly two years!). Mike accompanied me, and met a couple aunts, and uncle, and an assortment of cousins (and handled it with grace, I think). We returned to Santa Fe, where I stayed an extra night, simply so that we could spend some time around each other without being in a vehicle for once. We hiked, and found that everything just continued to…work.
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I returned to Colorado on Tuesday, and it was difficult to drive away. As I prepared to drive away, Mike said something to me that sums up what’s amazing about him and this relationship: “Thank you for being you.”

I knew that I’d found something special. I knew also that I wanted to spend my life with this man, whenever that might happen to start. How often do you meet someone who likes you not in spite of who you are, but because of who you are?

Over the two weeks since then (is that all?), we’ve continued to grow closer and stronger than I’ve been in “normal” relationships after two+ years. I’ve learned that I can tell Mike anything, and he can to me. We accept each other, trust each other, and most of all, love each other. Maya lights up when Mike comes into a room (hugging his leg before he left for work this morning — I’m writing from Santa Fe), and Mike is a natural father, even without experience as a parent. We’ve discussed the issues of importance (parenting, philosophy, lifestyle, cultural preferences, etc.) in great depth, and keep finding that we see eye-to-eye in almost ever case. Even in difficult conversations — especially in difficult conversations — the relationship is strong. Never before have I dated someone where I actually (in an odd way) look forward to bringing up a tough subject — because I’m confident that after we work through it, we’ll emerge stronger and closer than before.

There’s more I could tell, but this sums it up — I love Mike for who he is, and I’m more excited about my own life than I ever have been, purely because he will be part of it.

Maya and I are a couple of extremely lucky girls.