Love Letter to My Husband

I am looking at the back of his head right now; he’s busy playing Halo. The love that I feel rises in my throat and I want to grab him and kiss his face, but I don’t want to interrupt his game. That’s okay. I have a lifetime in which to bestow kisses.

We met in what may seem the most unlikely of situations to some, very likely to others… the internet. It was Craigslist to be exact. He was looking for a lawnmower and I was looking for a date. I should clarify that I wasn’t looking for just any date, I was looking for someone with a passport, someone who ultimately would be my passion, and in Hilo, Hawaii, that was like asking for the moon. His was the only reply that I responded to, because he said his passport had extra pages.

The pictures that I saw before our first date were of him in Antarctica. I emailed and asked if I would know him by the ice in his beard. I was only halfway joking. I mean, who was this bearded Antarctica working guy that I was meeting on a blind date? Weren’t people who worked at the South Pole simply weirdos? But who was I to judge?

I dressed carefully for that first date; white skirt, black tube top to show my tattoos, and a big smile. I chose a bar where I was known, and I arrived early. My bartender friend pointed him out when he arrived. He sat down and we talked. We talked for hours, over cocktails and appetizers and the cigarettes that we both resisted because it was, after all, a first date.

The second date morphed into the all-important third date and, a shot of tequila later, I climbed him like a tree and one could say that was it. We were a couple. Perhaps, but it was much more complicated than that. Weekends spent at Will’s yurt near Volcano only served to solidify the fact that he had applied for a job in Taiwan, and was certain to get it. I laid on his bed and looked at his Taiwan travel guide. I translated the Mandarin for him.

Two months and a crisis later he asked me to go to Taiwan with him. I said yes. I was in a weird place in my own life and I didn’t know that this was necessarily the right thing, but it was the right thing at the time. I packed all of my things into one huge suitcase and drove to the sleepy Hilo airport in the pre-dawn hours. I tossed my Jeep’s keys into the back seat so my friend could pick the car up later, and boarded a plane for Taipei, via Honolulu and Tokyo. And that was it. I was leaving, passport tucked in my pocket, on my way to a relationship.

I won’t bore you with the sordid details. Suffice it to say, it was hard. Very, very hard. But at one very difficult point while we were in Boracay, Philippines, something clicked. I knew that I loved him before, but I was all of a sudden in love. Head over heels, in fact. I knew this was the right thing. The best thing. The best thing ever.

Eight months later, we were married on the roof of our apartment building in Taiwan. My daughter flew in from the USA to be one of my maids of honor, and we said our words. The reception was legendary, as is apparent by the many facebook albums devoted to it. I was just happy to marry my friend, my lover, my partner in crime, my secret-sharer, the man who had forgiven me for sending his passport through the washing machine.
And here we are, almost three years later. I have this man to thank for everything that I have. He is generous to a fault, kind, supportive, incredibly sexy, and never fails to laugh at my jokes. I love his wisdom, his humor, and his entirely full life before he ever met me. He inspires me every day, encourages me to write, and to keep writing. He kisses me goodbye every morning, while I am still half asleep, as he leaves for a job that allows us to travel all over the world.

This man is a gift that I am so grateful for. I know that I am the most fortunate girl who has ever posted an ad on Craigslist in the the history of the world. Sounds far fetched? It is. Post on Craigslist and see what you get.

I got the love of my life.