Wonderful Weekends
-for My Husband, may we always be so happy
and in love

As I sat in Dr. Ken Elliot's Psychology of Human Development class that August afternoon I longed to be somewhere else. If I had known how my summer was going to turn out, I would never have signed up for that course. Tiny pings of electricity prickled my arms and legs. My face was red, flushed, and I could feel the warmth like a sunburn. I was happy, smiling and in love. I was going to meet him at the Citgo station down the road from my house after class. His name was Bill, and I had met him five weeks earlier.

I was out dancing at a club with some of my college buddies, and a friend pushed me into his brother-in-law, Dave. I stepped on his toe. "Since you stepped on my foot, the least you could do is dance with me," said Dave, so we danced through the band's next set. Afterwards, Dave bought me a drink and introduced me to his friends Charlie and Bill. Bill wore Polo Sport cologne, which added a spicy sweet smell to the stale cigarettes and alcohol in the bar. He had on a Texaco Xpress Lube t-shirt with the Atlanta Games symbol on the front, and Levi 501s with new looking rawhide boots. As I surveyed the 6'4 blonde, green-eyed man, I began to fall in love. "I love tall men," were my first words to Bill. I was amazed when he actually asked for my number, and later on, a date.

After the club closed, I decided to give Bill, Charlie, and Dave a ride back to their cabin. Bill and I stayed on the front porch swing after the other guys went to bed. Bill had spent thirteen years in the army as a tank commander and told absolutely fascinating stories. He was well traveled and had managed to see a good portion of the globe. Now that he was a civilian again, he was an auto-mechanic. I told him about my previous marriage, and my goals in school. We were both so taken with each other that we didn't notice that the sun was rising. We had talked through the night.

"Come back this afternoon for a cook-out," he invited. "I'll try," I answered, though I already knew that I would return. We became inseparable, except for my summer course.

I jumped from my seat, and ran for the door as Dr. Elliot was wishing us a good weekend. This weekend was going to be the best, and most important, weekend of my life. As I wound my way from Augusta to New Castle, I barely noticed the beautiful Maine landscape. The ancient farm houses, wagon wheel bridges, and small fairy tale villages were wasted on me as I sped in anticipation to meet Bill.

I finally made it to the tiny two-pump station. I parked my aqua blue Festiva, and went inside for a soda. I was already five minutes late, and Bill was no where in sight. I decided to sit in my car and wait. After fifteen minutes, I was still alone. My blood was now boiling, and I had almost decided to go home.

 "Oh well, I will wait ten more minutes, BIW traffic," I said to myself. I was pulling onto the road, when he pulled into the parking lot.

"I am so sorry. Traffic was terrible," he said with a smile, hug and kiss.

"I forgot to warn you about the traffic from the Iron Works. The bridge can be murder between 3:30 and 4:15. One time it took me an hour to get through Wiscasset," I agreed.

Bill kept looking at me in the sly, somewhat shy, manner that I had learned meant he had a surprise.

"You're going to kill me," he began as he walked to his car, a 280Z. He reached into his glove compartment.

"What did you do?," I asked with a huge smile on my face.

"Well, I've been thinking," he reached for me," it would be nice if we get married next year." Then he opened the small box in his hand to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. "So, do you think you would like to get hitched next year?"

"Hitched?!," I echoed through tears and laughter.

By this time a small crowd of people were standing around, and they cheered as I told him yes. I excitedly shoved the size and a half too small ring on my finger. Immediately my finger began to swell, and I couldn't remove the ring.

I drove the fifteen minutes to my house in sheer pain and ecstasy. My finger was turning purple, but I was so thrilled to have the chance at being Bill's wife. I was honored that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.

In the two years since my divorce, I had become more mature, and capable of loving another person in a different, even better, way. I had become more responsible with my love. I was no longer the reckless teenager throwing myself into a relationship just because my emotions led me to that person, in short, I was no longer afraid to be alone. I had learned how to love my self, and be happy by myself. I no longer needed a person to validate me. As a result, I was richer and could offer a better life and a better part of myself to another person. My life with Bill would be much happier.

When we reached the house, my ring had to be cut off. But after three years, my ring and my life are both complete.