How I met my husband!

The point of this essay was to work on using descriptive words. I thought it was okay, nothing amazing. I am sharing it because, well, it relates to the blog. This is the night, over 6 years ago, that brought my husband and I together. This is why George Huddy Albert exists. Pretty relevant right? It is the final of the essays I will be sharing until next semester. Stay tuned, because I promise to share some George anecdotes in the next few days. Hint: He is crawling, standing, speaking and using the potty at 8 months!



"I want to meet someone too!" I had been out of a serious relationship for almost 6 months and thought a new man might spark the interest of my ex.


"Sure, I'll introduce you to George." Richard said.

"Oh! No! Please, can I have George! I like his name," Katie chimed in.

"No! Katie, you are with Kirk! You don't need anyone!" I was determined. But a George? I could imagine a fat, balding man in a white t-shirt, with a grease stain, eating potato chips out of the bag while watching "Hot Cars, Hot Chicks" on some MAN network.



Two days later, I was groggy and drugged. The room was lit by fluorescent bulbs and the harsh, artificial light made the white walls look like waterfalls of wet paint. My mother was sanding my hand and sounded worried. She rubbed more anxiously as her voice grew in pitch. She was worried. The doctors wanted her to let me slowly wake up. But I am her daughter. Her one and only child. She needs me to wake up and I'm scaring her. I open my eyes and see the terror on her face.



"Mom, water?" I manage to say with my cotton filled mouth.

"Stacey, how do you feel? Everything went well. You can go home now." A man in a mask is helping me to stand and exit the room.



We walk down the sterile, scarcely lit hall to a dark, gloomy waiting room where my two best friends, Jessi and Katie await. I smile and tell them "All done!" With what I think is a smile. My face is numb. And this cotton in my mouth is squeaking against my teeth.



The moment we hit the car, I yank the cotton out and declare "I need a drink!"



After I pour water all over me in my attempt to quench my thirst with a numb face, we head home. I spend the drive feeling the stitches in the back of my mouth where my wisdom teeth were impacted. Gross. But I do kind of like the salty taste back there. Blood.



When we arrive home, my mom ushers me to bed, Jessi leaves and heads back to her house, and Katie joins me in my room.

"So, still going to have George come to the bonfire?" She asks.



"Oh! I have to call Richard and let him know I am up to it! I can't wait!" I jump up and make my phone call. When I am done, I sit back on the bed.

"Yep! Tonight at 9! Bonfire at Uncle Jays. I'll give Kory and Richard directions once Richard picks up George."



"Okay. Can we take a nap? I'm tired and I'm not even the one drugged up." Katie says, already closing her eyes.



I was riding a roller coaster. My heart went up, it dropped back down, my intestines slid to the left, to the right, my stomach was in my throat, it was in my toes. I was anxious to meet this George, but my face felt like Muhammad Ali had popped me one. But I needed something new. Something refreshing.



As I got dressed, I contemplated the clothes I was pulling out. A pretty, frilly shirt? No. A comfortable shirt with a band name splayed across? Yes. If he liked music, it'd work, if now, well, who doesn't like music?



Once I finished dressing, I realized I was late. I began to rush around and finally, I was ready.

We were to meet at my uncle's for a bonfire and Richard was supposed to be following me, but he was also running behind. I knew he had George with him and had needed to stop by his neighbors really fast and I was anxious. With Katie in my passenger seat and my mom in the back, I drove down to Richard's house anyway. As we approached I saw two figures walking down the blue, dark street, one had Richard's cocky gait and the other, I was pleased to notice, walked like a normal person.

I felt no flutter. My heart didn't skip a beat. My excitement was gone. I didn't know why I had been looking forward to this. He was a normal, average guy.

As he got in the car, he exchanged pleasantries with my mother and I checked him out in my rearview mirror, nothing special. Glasses. His nose had a wide bridge and he had very large lips and shaggy hair.

We drove the short drive and met up with a few more friends along the way.

At my Uncle's, my cousins were eager to roast marshmallows and throw things into the fire pit.

We went behind the house and the fire was already started, the pit is wide enough and deep enough to fit a large car, possibly a truck. As we approached the fire I felt the heat hit me like a tidal wave of comfort. I was surrounded in this warmth and it felt like love was wrapping it's arms around me.

We sat by the fire, George sitting quietly to my right, and told stories. But I couldn't stop looking at George. He seemed to be glancing at me out of the corner of his eye but he wasn't saying much. Finally, I offered him a marshmallow.

"No, thank you." He said in a polite tone with a slight hint of a southern accent. Suddenly, it felt like the fire's heat had increased. It's hug was tighter and almost suffocating. I looked into George's eyes and his met mine and I was suddenly falling into the fire, and he must have fallen right with me, our eyes still locked.

I can’t tell you what happened next. I honestly can’t remember. That powerful moment changed my life and 6 years later, I am celebrating my third wedding anniversary and raising George’s gorgeous son. I guess, we are living happily, ever after.

        Thanks so much for reading!