I was sixteen and believed that that stranger will someday be my husband. It was the first time I had seen him on the tennis courts. “Why is he here?” I thought. All I know is that I wanted to play him but I was scared to play him. My coach called me over and matched me up to play against him. I shook his hand. He let go so easily. He did not even put a facade that people do when they greet. I thought he was handsome. I thought about him. Just as he let go of my hand, I thought that I was nothing to him.
I bring this up because it is now almost three years from that day we shook hands. The only form of a formal encounter. If anything, at the time, I hoped for that day to be the last encounter between us.
I took my encounters with guys very seriously. My grandparents and parents were lucky enough to have only dated each other until they decided to get married. I wanted that, so I was brutal to guys. I would say no to guys that ask me on a date even though I had crushes on them for two years. I just didn’t see a future with them.
But there I was, three years ago. On the court. I was now the receiver of brutality. I did not even try to see a future. And yet, he slowly talked to me. I was intrigued but still scared. He knew of my values and waited 7 months for me until I said the one word no guy has ever heard. He took my hand and did not let go so easily. He loved me. I was everything to him.
Not long after I said yes, concern from my family members took over. “Your education needs you to focus. Just be friends for now and you can get back together six years from now after college”. I broke it off as they had urged. It was nothing like friendship. Doubts filled my head. “Nobody can wait 6 years for me”, “Is it too good to be true?”, “Are we meant to be?”. It took a lot for me to stand up to my family and to try to continue an acknowledged relationship.
Two years later and I am in college. My education is going strong. We see each other now once every three weeks. Our love still recovering. I am still recovering. I try to keep sane while I go to school and he works. He teaches me to be understanding and how to be comfortable with myself (more than what the college environment can do). I try to teach him what I learn in school.
I constantly relate our lives to my classes concerning relationships. The material is open to interpretation which always frustrate me. I need security in an answer. A foretold future that I once used to be able to tap into. I can only do what I feel is right for us. All I have as indicators are my gut feelings. They tell me the reality I am in. They let me know when I know I am in love with him and when I feel far from him. It tells me to believe in my decision to say yes. But all I had then was a head of doubts. I just do what I can in the meantime.
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