Three days ago I married my best friend. I have known him for nineteen years. Coincidentally he is Blue Eyes‘ brother.
When I met the two boys, Husband was 17 to my 12 years old. So, we were not ever going to run in the same circle. Actually, I couldn’t stand him. He was always in the front yard working on his car, a pack of Newport’s laying on the hood. He was cocky. I honestly always thought he was gay – though quite the opposite was true. I think I was so hung up on Blue Eyes that I never saw him for who he was. Or, maybe he really was just a prick before he grew up. He admits the latter is true.
When their family moved back to my state in 2004, Husband was still very much out of my line of sight. Prior to their moving back, he had driven down and picked me up from my house so I could go with him to look at houses for his family to move in. Even then, I felt nothing. He was just … Blue Eyes’ brother.
We were friends on Facebook by the time that became popular. He and Blue Eyes were already back in their home state. By that time he was married and had children. I saw Husband at Blue Eyes’ wedding. I remember as I was putting on my bridesmaids dress, and then going up the stairs of the wedding chapel, and he was sitting on the steps alone, lost in thought. His wife was there somewhere, but I hardly knew her. Something tugged at my heart in that moment, though I didn’t really know what it was or why. I ignored it and continued on; I was more concentrated on the fact that my first love was marrying another woman, and she had purposely made me part of her wedding party so I could watch it all happen.
Husband’s marriage lasted seven years before she cheated on him, left with their children on their anniversary, and moved back to her mom’s house three hours from his. He was devastated. I remember seeing Facebook posts about how much he missed his wife and wanted his family back. I felt so bad for him. I told him I was sorry, we chatted briefly about nothing in particular, and I moved on with my day. At that time I was dating a guy that enjoyed cheating on me and then begging me back. Like an idiot, I kept going back.
In October of 2012, Husband and his children came down to visit his brother. By then, I was a regular at Blue Eyes’ house, and had actually come to really like his wife. I was four years into my relationship with Serial Cheater, and very near the end of my rope. I got off of work and went to Blue Eyes’ house because I knew Husband and his mom were there and I was excited to see both of them since they were like my second family. When I got there, Husband and his mom had gone out to get lunch, so I sat on the air mattress on the floor and talked to Blue Eyes and his wife. When they got back, Husband walked in and threw himself down right beside me and punched me in the arm. I said, “What are you, five?” and shoved him back playfully. Then I stood up to go outside with everyone and he slapped my ass … hard. And I liked it.
I only saw him that weekend for a few hours at a time. Nothing extraordinary happened during his visit. We talked, we laughed, and I felt this incredible draw towards him. When he left to go back to his home state, I felt a part of me go with him. I sent him a text message that said “You couldn’t handle me on your best day.” He replied “You haven’t had your best day until you’ve had me.” And that’s how it started. If we sent one text, we sent thirty thousand text messages from October until January. We talked constantly on the phone on my way home from work and late into the night each and every night.
This would be the beginning of our story. And it’s one full of heartache, anger, tears, happiness, and love.