Four Years A Bride: The Finale

Haven’t read the other parts?

Part I  Part II  Part III

After I had totaled and flipped my car, my view on life completely changed.

As I had stated in my last post, I was tired of being lonely.  I was tired of being strong.  I was tired of being so self-reliant.  Honestly, I was just tired.

I had been working 80 hours a week for four months at that point.  When I had one day off, which was very far and few between, I would just sleep for 14 hours.  I didn’t even enjoy my days off.  When I was dating Alex, I would see him at night, and if I only had to work one job, I would usually sit on his bed with him and talk, and we talked about everything.  Slowly, he had not become only my lover, but my best friend.

After I had flipped my car, I basically lost my job at the deli.  My manager put me at 23 hours a week, which was my main source of income.  She said that after flipping my car, I wasn’t reliable anymore.  My other job was paying well, but between student loans, car insurance that went through the fucking roof, rent, and basic living expenses, I was maxing out a credit card just to survive.

My mother had told me that if I ever asked her for rent money, she would mail me a ticket to fly home.  I would ship back only the necessary stuff, and give away the rest.

So when I was figuring out how I was going to survive, I would usually burst into tears.  I liked Minnesota, but Alaska, to date, is the only place where I’ve ever felt that I fit in.  It was the only place that I could be 100% true to myself and not feel scorned for it.

And if this blog hasn’t given you any insight: I’m really fucking weird.

I remember sitting with Alex, telling him my woes, explaining that I might have to move home, and unfortunately, we would probably have to split.

I don’t do long distance relationships, we wouldn’t be able to afford to fly back and forth from Minnesota and Alaska, and I honestly couldn’t see doing a long distance.  He asked me what he could do to keep me in Alaska, and I joked and said, “Well, there’s always marriage.”

We had been talking marriage a little more seriously.  Because you obviously know someone ridiculously well after two months of being together.

I laughed, but he didn’t.  The next day, we decided to go out to eat.  It was a few days after I had flipped my car and I was still a little sore.  We went out to eat at the Wolf’s Run, which was my favorite restaurant in Alaska.  They were mostly a dessert shop, but their dinners were ridiculously good.  It was pretty early so we were the only ones in the restaurant.  It was stunningly quiet, and once we sat down and the waitress left, Alex took my hands and gave this huge speech.

He told me that his life was a puzzle, and I was the missing piece.  That he had never been in love so deeply before, that I was the other half to make him whole.  He said a lot of mushy stuff and I thought it was sweet, but I didn’t quite get what he was getting at.

“So Leah, my love, my life, will you do the honor of marrying me?” he asked me.

Because I’m so fucking romantic, I responded with, “Sure, why not?”

As you can imagine, the look on his face was priceless.  He put his face in his hands and started to laugh.  “Leah, I’m being serious right now.”

My eyes grew wide.  “Oh shit!  Uh, yes!  Yes, I’ll marry you!”

To which we kissed across the table.  The waitress came around with our hot chocolate and we told her we were engaged.  She just smiled and asked for our orders.

The rest of the night we walked around, figuring out how to tell our family.  I emailed my mom and she didn’t believe me until it was Facebook official, which is the only official that you really need.  Alex’s mom found out via Facebook.  Pretty much the whole family found out about it via Facebook.

Since most of you are probably wondering… he did not propose with a ring.  He was fresh out of basic, he was just as broke as I was.  Alas, this is likely my Alaska side coming out.  To me, rings are usually impractical.  I don’t really care for jewelry.  Alex couldn’t afford a ring and he told me he was going to buy me a big shiny rock someday.  He felt bad that he proposed without a ring, but for me, it wasn’t important.  I wasn’t marrying a ring, I was marrying him.  I knew he loved me, I could see it whenever he smiled at me, or held me, or even when he would talk to me.

My friends felt the same that I did.  A wedding ring is material, it will come in time.  I’ve met several people who didn’t get a ring until they had been together for years.  It wasn’t a big deal.

However, when Alex told his coworkers that he proposed without a ring, they couldn’t believe I said yes without a ring.  A lot of people I knew on base told me that I was stupid for accepting without a ring.  Even here in Louisiana, people told me that they would never accept a marriage proposal without a ring worth at least two grand.  Something I will never, ever understand.

So, on my 21st birthday, two weeks after he proposed, on Valentines, he took me to a jewelry store and let me pick out an engagement ring.

I went over to the sapphires because I really don’t like diamonds and I found a small sapphire ring.  It was $200, and I felt awful finding something to expensive.  However, I really liked it.  I showed it to Alex and he told me that I should pick something more expensive, and I told him no.  I liked simple.

My engagement ring and wedding band.  Total cost was ridiculously low.  And awesome.

My engagement ring and wedding band. Total cost was ridiculously low. And awesome.

So he bought me the ring and I got it sized, and I haven’t really taken it off in the past four years.

On February 28th, the justice of the peace in Fairbanks was meeting us at the chapel on base.  She was two hours late.  One of my best friends in Alaska was there, her mother was there, Alex’s shop chief and his wife were there, and my mom flew up at the last minute to be there.

The justice of the peace was awful.  She stood before us and said, “Do you?  Do you?  Okay, you’re married.”

I remember standing there for about forty seconds before saying, “Can I kiss him now?”

She looked shocked.  “Sure, if you want.”

So we kissed, and we were married.  My mom said she didn’t even have time to get the tears worked up.  My friend’s mom and Alex’s shop chief witnessed the wedding.  From there we went to where I worked and bowled a few games with Alex’s shop.  My mom bought me a cheeseburger and a bottle of Mike’s hard lemonade, and that was my wedding.

Thanks to my friend Marissa for having the thought of bringing a camera that day.

Thanks to my friend Marissa for having the thought of bringing a camera that day.

The next day, we went to the Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks with my mom, and that was my honeymoon.

About four months later we had a “real wedding” in Las Vegas, where I had a fancy ass dress and more of my family attended.  Where I had a horrible wedding photographer.

But that’s okay, because I got the best possible thing out of the entire situation.

I got to gamble in Vegas while totally and completely hammered.

Oh, I got to marry Alex too.

So yeah, that’s how I got married.

Credit to my sister in law for taking this picture.  It looks far better than any of the professional pictures.

Credit to my sister in law for taking this picture. It looks far better than any of the professional pictures.

Alex, happy four years.  You’re the Samwise to my Frodo Baggins.  You’re the Gandalf to my Bilbo Baggins.  You’re the precious to my Gollum.  You’re my lover, my friend, my husband.  I know we drive each other batty more often than not, but I love you, and I want to have at least another 40 years of happiness.

How did your spouse propose to you?  What kind of wedding did you have?  Do you lack the romance like me?  Let me know in the comments!

Advertisements

Four Years A Bride: How I Almost Died

Part 1      Part 2

After dating Alex about a month, we had already told each other the dreaded L word.  I was sleeping over at his place every day, and nights that I wasn’t at his house, we were texting each other all night because we couldn’t sleep without the other one.  When I worked on base, he would walk to my work, pick up my car, fill it up and go grocery shopping to make sure I ate my veggies.

If there was a rare occasion that we both had a day off, we spent it in his dorm room watching movies and cuddling.  I had been in love once before, but never like this.  It was intoxicating.  When we were together, I felt complete and at peace, when we were apart, I ached for him in a way I never knew a person could ache for someone.

Once a year I would fly home to Minnesota to visit my family, always on my mom’s dollar because I was poor.  She would fly me home, I’d see the dentist and any other medical check ups I needed, mom would take me clothes shopping, my friends would throw a party and we’d either get drunk or just hang out, and so on.  This trip, I remember a very distinct conversation with my mom about my relationship with Alex.

I told her that I was going to marry Alex.  I just knew that I was going to marry him.  Alex and I started joking about it after two weeks of dating, saying “if we get married.”  When the one month mark hit, we were saying “When we get married” and neither of us corrected the other.

My mom told me that I needed to wait at least six months so I could get to know him.  She said that I needed to be careful because he could be someone who is abusive, and to be fair, she made a lot of really good points.  The points she made, honestly, are points I make to people when they mention marriage after knowing someone for a year.

But I was 20 years old, I thought I knew everything.  I told her that we were going to get married probably in June, and while he hadn’t proposed yet, I knew he was thinking of doing it, he had told me as much.

But not this romantic

But not this romantic

My mom tried to talk me out of it and she said she wanted to meet him before I considered marrying him and that we should plan a trip to visit all of our families before getting married, but we lived in Alaska and he was newly enlisted, he was just as broke as I was.    But as always, my mom knew best, and her advice was really solid advice.  But I just didn’t want to listen.

I got my wisdom teeth taken out two days before I flew back to Minnesota, and the day after I was so high on pain meds that I didn’t remember my brother sitting with me on the couch singing Rocky Horror Picture Show.  Nor do I remember my step dad talking to me, or anything.  I do remember yelling at my mom that I wanted a hamburger smoothie and that I had to have Greek yogurt, to which she laughed and told me to shut the hell up.

The day I flew back to Alaska, Alex was going to meet me at the airport.  He had my car, after all.  When I landed in Fairbanks, I was still a little out of it from the meds, but I saw him at the baggage claim, standing there with a worried look on his face.  When he saw me, he opened his arms and I ran to him, refusing to let go of him.  There were a few people there cooing and awing, but we had only been apart a week, and to us, it felt like an eternity.

We got my suitcase and went back to his dorm.  We fell asleep holding hands.

The next morning I had to go back to Fairbanks to find out when I was supposed to work at the deli, and I knew that I had to work that night at the bowling alley, but I was still kind of out of it.  I had to take a Vicodin the night before and I don’t think it was completely out of my system.  I was also jet lagged.  That day, it was mid-January and it was -44 outside with drifting snow.

I was a fearless driver, never afraid of speeding and never afraid of anything happening to me because come on, nothing bad ever happens to me.  I was naïve.

I fell asleep behind the wheel for an instant, going 65 on the highway with drifting snow.  When I woke up, I saw I was going head first into a snow bank, I overturned, spun out of control, and my car flipped and landed in the ditch.

It all happened so fast that I didn’t even realize what was happening.  The car was spinning then suddenly I was upside down, the roof of my car had caved in and was nearly touching my head, the engine turned off, stuff was everywhere, and I was staring at a St Christopher medal that was on my visor.  I saw cars driving by, I saw the snow falling, and the seatbelt was causing me pain for restraining me in my chair.

I actually never saved the picture of my flipped car, but it looked pretty much like this.

I actually never saved the picture of my flipped car, but it looked pretty much like this.

I remembered I started screaming, but it seemed so far away.  I didn’t feel like I was in my body because I was so scared.  I remember seeing a woman a few feet away from my window, looking in to the window.  I started to pound on the window, screaming for help and she ran away.  I was trapped upside down, unable to move, my body paralyzed with fear.  I found my phone somehow and dialed the last number I had called.

It was Alex.

He picked up on the second ring, a little bit of fun in his voice.  “Did you butt dial me?” he said with a chuckle.

“OH MY GOD ALEX I JUST FLIPPED MY CAR AND I’M TRAPPED AND I’M SCARED AND I’M UPSIDE DOWN AND I JUST PAID OFF THIS CAR AND CUT THE INSURANCE LAST WEEK OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO DIE!”

Let me tell you, not the best way to go about this kind of situation.  I could only scream.  I remember him trying to calm me down and say it without screaming and I continued to be hysterical, screaming that I was probably going to die because it was -44 outside that day and I was in the ditch somewhere between North Pole and Fairbanks.   Oh, and because I was trapped upside down.  Can’t forget that bit.  The blood was going to my head.

He said he was going to hang up and have the dispatcher call me.  I cried that I didn’t want him to hang up and he did.  A few minutes later a dispatcher called me and told me to stay calm.  In the few minutes where I was waiting for my phone to ring, I pushed myself up into my seat and unclasped the seatbelt and slid to the roof of my car, laying on the ceiling, no longer upside down.  The dispatcher asked me if I was okay, and I told her no because I had just paid off the car and cut the insurance.  She asked me if I was physically injured and I told her no.

However, when you have that much adrenaline, you don’t feel anything.  The fire department, an ambulance, and the state troopers arrived and they asked me if I could crawl to the back seat and climb out the back window.

I had so much shit in my car that I couldn’t leave the front seat.  They asked me if I had a blanket to cover my face and I pulled it over and covered my face while they used a sledge hammer to break the window.  The pulled the blanket away from me and placed it over the broken glass while I crawled out the window.

Since this day was a horrible day, my ass got stuck in the window.  Since I was still hysterical from flipping my car and being totally fucking broke, I started screaming because my ass was trapped in that fucking car.  I think the responders were trying not to laugh at my yelling, “OH MY GOD MY ASS IS STUCK! I’M GOING TO DIE!”

I got into the ambulance and they gave me a once over, making sure I still had feeling in my legs and arms, checking my blood pressure, which was 180 over 120.  Apparently that’s really fucking high.

My eyes were fully dilated, I was shaking, I was cold, but I was alive.  They told me if I hadn’t of worn my seatbelt, I’d be dead.  If it had been summer and there was no snow to cushion the fall, the car would have compressed more and I would have died, if the glass had shattered in the right way, it would have blinded me.  All the conditions were perfect for me to come out injury free for the most part.

As they were telling me this, I realized my hand feel really warm.  I looked down and saw that it was covered in warm blood.  Since my adrenaline was still ridiculously high, I screamed “OH MY GOD I’M BLEEDING TO DEATH!”

A small piece of glass was taken out of my hand and they put a band aid on it, cleaning the blood off.  The cut didn’t even need stitches, but my blood pressure was so high that it was flying out of me.

They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital, but I didn’t have health insurance so I couldn’t afford it.  They called a tow truck and I waited in the troopers car.  I got my phone and called Alex, telling him I was fine and I was broke and had no idea what to do.  I called my mom and got her voicemail, telling her to call me when she promised to not get mad.  I called my roommate to tell her that I got into an accident and I was okay.  I called my managers at each job and told them that I couldn’t work that day because I had no transportation because I totaled my car.

When my mom called me, she said she wouldn’t get mad.  She promised.  And I told her I flipped and totaled my car. She asked me if I was hurt, I said no.  Then she started to scream at the top of her lungs.  I almost dropped the phone.

The tow truck driver yelled at me because the key was missing from the ignition, but I had no idea where it had fallen.  I thought it was in the engine.  To this day, I have no idea where that key went.  They towed the car to the house I was staying at, and I did the one thing that I had wanted to do since the car started spinning out of control.

I really had to shit.

That whole, “Always wear clean underwear when you get into a car accident,” is no lie.  My god, since the moment the car went upside down, it was painful to hold in.  It was so fucking insane, I was so relieved to see a toilet.  There is no greater happiness than seeing a toilet after you total your car.

Hello beautiful... I am going to destroy you

Hello beautiful… I am going to destroy you

My coworker at the bowling alley offered to pick me up and take me to the Air Force Base to see Alex, and I really needed to work.  I went into work, letting Alex know I was on base, and told my manager that I wanted to work my shift after all.

She said I was fucking crazy.  And she was right.  I should not have worked.

Now one thing, when I flipped the car, I almost died.  I saw my life flash before me, but not like seeing all these things that I had done.  I saw all the things I didn’t do.  All the things I wanted to do in my life.  I saw Alex in a way I never saw him before.  I saw myself growing old with him, I saw him not just as my boyfriend, but as my companion, my husband, my soul mate.  When I was trapped upside down, all I thought through all of that, besides emptying my bowels, was, “If I get out of this alive, I have to tell Alex I love him.”  Alex and I had talked marriage, but I didn’t realize just what that entailed, and after flipping my car and nearly dying, I realized exactly what that meant.  I didn’t want to spend another day without Alex.  I wanted to grow old with him.  I wanted to wake up next to him every day, to fight with him, to buy a house together.  I wanted all that mushy stuff.  I was tired of moving every few months, I was tired of working two full time jobs just to make ends meet.  I was tired of being so lonely.  I was tired of being so damn strong.  I wanted to be able to lean on someone, even if just for an instant.  I wanted Alex to be with me for the rest of my life, and I realized at that moment exactly what that entailed.

As soon as he found out I was at work, he had the troll drive him to the bowling alley.  When he saw me, he went from walking to full blown sprinting. I didn’t even see him enter the building, but my manager did, and she started giggling when she saw him run.  He tackled me, squeezing me so tight I coucouldn’teathe.  He touched my face, he felt to make sure I wasn’t hurt, he kissed me.  He was almost in tears.

To say the least, I found out he felt the same way.

I was only able to work a few hours of my shift.  When the adrenaline calmed down, I was so dizzy that I nearly passed out.  I was trying not to cry.  I was so incredibly exhausted that I didn’t know what was going to happen to me.  My coworker said she’d cover the rest of my shift and my manager said it was okay for me to leave.  I was going to walk to Alex’s dorm, which was about a quarter of a mile away, but my coworker called her husband and had him drive me the short distance.  He offered to walk me to the door, but I said no and walked myself.

When I got to Alex’s dorm, he just sat and held me as I started to cry.  I had no idea what was going to happen.  I couldn’t afford a new car.  I could barely afford my rent.  Alex wasn’t allowed to live off base so we couldn’t get an apartment together unless we got married.  I was afraid of what the coming months had in store for me.

The next day my body was so sore and stiff that I couldn’t even move.  It hurt just to sit up.  So I called into work and my manager had already given my shift away because she knew I’d be sore.  Alex didn’t have a car, and since he’s an asshat in situations like this, he made me walk all over base to get anything I’d need for the next few days.  That was the most painful day of my life.

A week later I was back to working both jobs, taking a taxi to work or having my friend pick me up to go to the base.  My mom gave me a loan of cash to buy a ’97 Buick LeSabre, which I drove for two years.  When I went back to work at Safeway, my manager told me that I was no longer dependable and that I needed to quit or she’d find a way to fire me.

But Alex came to the rescue…

 

Have you ever almost died?  Have you ever been in a situation where you were given an ultimatum?  Did your significant other ever save your life?  Let me know in the comments!

The truth reigns supreme!

These are the trues and lies revealed from this blog post.  I suggest reading that so you’re not totally and completely confused.

So, which one was not true?

1.   When I was Ten years old, I puked on a real piece of the Titanic.

TRUE!

There was a titanic exhibit at the St Paul museum (at least I think it was there) and my dad knew the guy who was in charge of it and got us all tickets to go.  Since I was obsessed with the movie Titanic and had a bunch of different books about it, he decided it would be fun for us to go.

Of course, he picked the one time a year that I had the flu.  I told him that morning I probably shouldn’t go because my stomach was hurting.  He said walking would help it.  We get to the exhibit, and while I was having a blast, my stomach just hurt more and more.  And I told him I thought I was going to throw up.  Like a true parent, he ignored me.

When we got to see the real piece of the Titanic, they had to keep it in sea water so the rust wouldn’t get so bad that it would fall apart.  The second the smell of salt water came to my nose, the first time I had ever smelled salt water, I felt myself begin to salivate very heavily.  I tugged on my dad’s sleeve, who was explaining something to my brother, and I said “Dad, I’m going to puke.”  He shrugged me off and told me to tell him what exciting news I had later.

Three… Two… One… I threw up.  All over the floor.  And some got onto the real piece of the Titanic.  My father, who is the king of subtlety, yells at me, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE GOING TO PUKE?!”

And thus began the tale of how my father said that I got sea sick without ever having gone to an ocean.

2. I once met Willie Nelson at a charity concert and didn’t know it was him until a month later.

TRUE!

When I was either 13 or 14, I was in Sioux Falls for a mission trip with my church.  We were at the children’s hospital and they told us a very special guest was there to sing for the families, and we went.  And it was none other than Willie Nelson.  He looked familiar, he sounded familiar.  And even his name was nagging me.

A month after the fact, I heard one of the songs he sang at the children’s hospital on the radio to which I exclaimed, “Who is this guy?  I saw him live when I was in Sioux Falls.”

To which my father slammed the breaks (gravel back road in Minnesota, nobody was around to worry about slamming on breaks) and he yells “YOU MET WILLIE NELSON AND DIDN’T KNOW WHO IT WAS?!”

Apparently.

3.  When I was really mad at one of my old bosses, I purposely screwed up the inventory so my manager was required to take a two day class on how to properly do inventory.  She wasn’t allowed to turn me in because I wasn’t supposed to be doing it in the first place.

TRUE!

Let me defend myself, I was 19 years old and I was very spiteful.  This was a deli clerk job at Safeway, I had recently dropped out of college because my boss at Safeway told me that “35 hours a week is part time, and I was able to work full time and take 18 credits, so you can do the same.”

And I have a mild learning disability so no, I can’t do that.  She would also set me up for failure all the time.  One time, she bought me starbucks then turned me in to the manager for having a beverage in the deli.  Then she would lie to me, telling me that customers didn’t like me because I was heavy.  One time, she even bought me weight loss pills and encouraged me to take them so that customers and coworkers would like me more.  And she once tried to write me up for not wearing make up.  And I don’t wear make up because I’m highly allergic to most of it.  The stuff I’m not allergic to costs an arm and a leg to wear, so I wear make up only a few select times of the year.

She decided that I needed to start doing the inventory.  Safeway states that only a manager or assistant manager can do inventory, but since I’m a smart cookie, she decided to have me start doing it.  I didn’t mind, it looked great on a resume, but I got a second job at the local Air Force Base, so I was working two full time jobs and my availability changed.  So this particular Sunday, when I had come in at 4 AM, and closed at my other job at midnight the night before, she approached me and told me that I had to quit because I wasn’t dependable after getting that job.

I smiled and said that was fine and she stormed off, not expecting that reaction.  I wasn’t going to quit, she couldn’t even write me up for anything, but I decided to exact a little revenge.

So after I had counted all of the inventory, which was around 20 sheets of counting, I left one page in the printer.  You have to have all of it in order to properly file the inventory.  Safeway policy states that if the inventory is done incorrectly, you get a write up as well as a two day class on how to properly do inventory.  Since she had been making my life a living hell for several months, I figured I’d give it right back to her.

She had to take the class and got her ass chewed by several higher ups.  And she couldn’t turn me in because I technically wasn’t allowed to do inventory.  When she tried, they said, “Why would you have a deli clerk do inventory?  That’s against store policy!” and she was in even more trouble for letting the big stupid girl do inventory.

A month later, when I gave my coworker a ride home, she said “I can’t believe she yelled at you for that.”

I responded, “I know, right?  She was yelling at me as if I didn’t know.”

4.  I lost my first kiss when I was nearly 19 years old,

True!

I had only been on one date when I lived in Minnesota, and he was really, really awkward.  I shall put that on here someday.  Anyway, my best friend during my first year in Alaska was a guy who was from a rural village and was more awkward than me, and I had a huge crush on him.  After hanging out with him in his dorm, I confessed I had never been kissed so he kissed me.  And then later told me that we were just friends and we couldn’t do that anymore and he cared about me too much to risk losing me as a friend.  Which sucked at the time, because I was in love with him.

Worked out for the best though.  He’s in jail now for vehicular theft.  Because he was trying to impress a hot girl.

5.  I moved to Alaska when I was 18 and my mom told me I should go

False!

My mother fought me every step of the way for moving to Alaska.  She was convinced I was going to be eaten by a polar bear.  I have no common sense, I’m awkward, I’m very trusting, and I make stupid decisions all the time.  Nothing has changed either.

So when I told her I was going to Alaska, she fought me every step of the way.  Then took me to Alaska to look at the college to discourage me from moving to Alaska.  We even went in the dead of winter so I could see how horrible it was.

I loved it.

And I moved there.  And she told me I’d be back within six months because there was no way I could cut it.

Five years later I left Alaska against my will to move to Louisiana.  Alex told me if I got offered a job there making over 100k a year, he would move back to Alaska with me.  So when he’s out of the military, I might do that.  Because I love Alaska.  Everything about it.

6.  I’m related to my husband in at least two different ways

I know, gross, but true.

In my defense though, it’s very distant and we didn’t know until a few months after we were married.  I was talking to his grandma and I found out that her cousin married my Grandpa’s cousin.  And we have a couple common ancestors (notably from the Mayflower).  But most of my ancestors are from Germany and Norway and my family (except my Grandpa’s family) has been here only three generations.  Which works out.  Kind of.

So, any weird facts that you guys have to tell?  Do anything incredibly stupid that you look back at now and go UGH!?  I want to know!

Like what you read?  Follow me on facebook! I’ll be posting odd news stories and blog updates

How I Found Out I Was Dating My True Love (I Had To Wet The Bed)

For those of you who don’t know, I knew Alex almost three months when we got married.  I have heard so many people tell us that it would never last because we hardly knew each other, and I had a lot of people making bets on when I was due because they were certain I was pregnant.

It’s been nearly three years since we got married, and I have not given birth.  So those of you who made bets on my due date, pay up, because I didn’t have a baby.  Nor was I pregnant when I got married.

I do have to say this for sure though: I knew that no matter what happened, we could work through it.  Unless it was cheating, then he could go jump off a bridge.

But he’s never cheated, and neither have I.  So any problem we can work through.

The reason I can say that though, is because of what happened about two and a half weeks after we started dating.

At that point I was basically living in his dorm room on base.  From our second date on, we were never apart .  He would come to my work and borrow my car (he had no vehicle at the time since he had just gotten stationed in Alaska), he would buy my groceries since he found out that I was living off of Ramen and Chili (sometimes I’d cook a roast in my crock pot if the meat was on sale, or cook something else for my roommates since I loved to experiment), and then he’d fill my gas tank since I would fill my tank every few days, then he’d pick me up from work and I’d spend the night at his dorm.  It was a great set up.

After dating for a couple weeks, I got a bladder infection.  It was painful and if you are unaware of how bladder infections work, you sometimes have issues controlling your bladder.

Never, since I was about four years old, had I wet the bed.

Since Murphey’s law states that anything can happen whenever you don’t want it to happen, such as I didn’t want to wet the bed when I was falling head over heels with the potential father of my future children because he’d probably think “Oh hell no, I am not staying with a girl who is going to pee on me whenever she gets the chance.”

So of course I wet the bed.

And of course it wasn’t a little.  Oh no, Murphey’s law had to ensure that I drank close to a gallon of water the night before and peed enough to fill a gorge.

I'm pretty sure I was dreaming about this when it happened

I’m pretty sure I was dreaming about this when it happened

And it had to be when I was laying sandwiched between the wall and Alex on a full size bed.

And Alex had his arms wrapped around me in a death grip.

And I think I peed on him a little.

As you can imagine, I was in a state of horror.

This was basically my face

This was basically my face

Since it was around 6 in the morning, I figured he’d be too tired to wake up to my sneaking off to the bathroom to clean up a little bit.  So I’m then in the bathroom, coming up with a plan.

After about ten minutes, I decided that I’d roll him out of bed, covering up the spot, tell him that I got my period and bled on his sheets and I needed him to take my car to the shoppette to get me tampons while I threw his sheets in the washer and removed any traces of my having wet the bed.

I was pretty proud of myself considering how complex this plan was.

So I walked out of the bathroom, my head held high, ready to execute my brilliant plan.

When I walk into the bedroom, he had already finished stripping the sheets off the bed and put them in the clothes basket.

I felt my cheeks turn red, and my eyes tear up from embarrassment.  He didn’t say anything.  I took the basket and put the clothes in the washer, trying to hide my tears.

I get back to the room and he has the window open and has used half a bottle of febreeze.

“See?  Nothing’s wrong.  Everything is fixed.  Nothing happened.”

Except that I’m highly allergic to febreeze, so my wind pipe started to close up.

“There! I fixed it!  Nothing happened!  We’re good!” he tells me, to which I’m trying to get the few words out that I can.  I think he thought I was going to burst into tears from embarrassment.  The next words I spoke completely caught him off guard.

“I’m deathly allergic to febreeze!”

His face pales, he shoves me out of the room, giving me my shoes and socks and he finishes getting dressed.  He meets me in the hallway of his dorm room.

“So uh, lets go get some breakfast.”

It was true love.

He didn’t give me any grief.

He told no one.

And most of all, he didn’t dump me over it.

I knew from that moment on, I was going to marry him.

All because my bladder is an asshole.

So have any of you had an experience where you were sure that your boyfriend or girlfriend was going to dump you and nothing came of it?  Or something so embarrassing that it took you three years to be able to tell anyone?

Like what you read?  Follow me on facebook! I’ll be posting odd news stories and blog updates.