“Huh??? What did you say?”[wait for it, wait for it]
“Oh, I get it now.”
It’s funny to me how the relationship with the woman that I’m about to spend the rest of my life with is based fairly heavily on poor and/or selective hearing. While this has proved mildly annoying thus far, I have it on good suspicion that the older we grow the better this trait will benefit me.
See, the woman in my life has a problem. Either she doesn’t hear very well (which in all honesty, as simple hearing test could determine) or she doesn’t listen very well (my non-clinical suspicion). All in all, the time it takes her to process and actually *hear* what you’re saying is severely delayed. It’s like talking on the phone over the Internet. But surely no one here is nerdy enough to have done that more than once between 1997 and 2001…
Oddly enough, much of our 6 year relationship has been based around this. I’ve gained much patience in learning to wait for her to really hear what I said. In the early days I would get flustered by her lack of auditory perception, seeing as I’m no more than three feet away when I speak. But now, I just pause and wait for it to catch up with her. Most times it works, but alas a few instances prove that she really did fail to catch what I said. Who knows, maybe I speak too softly.
To illustrate just how integrated this is into our relationship, I present to you the story of our first date:
April 16, 1999. Though we had been friends/incessantly flirting for many months by this point, we decided to make it official and put our big toes in the Ring of Dating. On a double-date with my suite mate Justin and his now wife Lisa, we simply headed out to the Marimont Theaters to catch Life Is Beautiful. I should have known right then that the next six years would, much like the movie, require English subtitles. Aside from the man having cardiac arrest THREE FEET FROM ME, it was a good date. And I taught my suite mate how to properly wash a car windshield, which is an obvious bonus.
Afterwards, we retired to her room, sans roommate. We sat talking for quite a long time, which has always been a cornerstone of our relationship. After awhile, the mood seemed right, and on instinct (read: no planned cheese ball Richard Geare move) I said something to the effect of, “I don’t think I can go another day without kissing you.”
And she looked at me like a deer in headlights. “What did you say?”
After simultaneously picking my jaw off the floor, gonads from my throat and suppressing the urge to vomit, I repeated what I had said, half expecting a slap, half expecting a cold and harsh denial.
“Ha! I thought you had said ‘I don’t think I can ever date you!’”
And thus the next 2190 days were set in perfect motion.
Happy six year anniversary, love. Though I’m eight days early, hopefully by that point you will have both heard and correctly processed what I’ve said.
[note: there is a second half to this story, but that shall be saved for later]
