Eleven years ago today, my husband and I were married in a scenic park in Prince George, BC. Since I’m actually from a tiny town in Florida, a frequent question that I’m asked is how I met my husband. After all, Prince George is a pretty unlikely place for a born and raised southern girl to end up. Our love story is a pretty unlikely fairy tale.
Simply put, I met my husband over the phone. I wasn’t looking for the beginning of some grand love story. I’d just gotten out of a relationship that just sort of dissolved away to nothingness. I was busy. I was moving on from that failed relationship. I had a full-time job. I was going to college. I was a single mom. I was looking for technical support, not a date.
I was running some (now defunct) websites for a man who lived in California. He put out a message to subscribers to update their listings. All of those requests broke the MySQL database. I couldn’t get in touch with my primary contact, so I did a whois lookup on the domain. My husband was listed as technical contact. I called him up.
He said “hello,” and that was when our love story began. I knew as soon as he answered the phone that this was the man that I would marry.
It took a little bit longer for him to come to the same conclusion.
Still, though, we started to talk daily, for hours on end. I would call him in the morning to wake him up. He would call me at night after I came home from work and talk to me until I fell asleep. Even though there was a time difference, we made it work. After a month of talking and running up phone bills in the $500 range, we decided that I should come up. I booked a trip up for my spring break.
He picked me up at the airport with a dozen roses. We were both thrilled at being together, and heartbroken that I would have to return to Florida to wrap up my life there. I went home with an engagement ring. This was about a month and a half after we “met” over the phone. I finished my semester of school, packed my stuff up, and flew back to be with my love two days after the semester ended. That was three months after our love story began. Seven months later, we were married.
Some think our love story is crazy and impulsive. We were too far apart. We didn’t know each other well enough. It was doomed to fail. Maybe it’s a bit unorthodox, but eleven years in, I’m pretty sure it’s working out. We have a beautiful little family and a wonderful life together. All because I needed technical support.
Happy anniversary, my love.
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