Great story of Love

Chapter One

Our love story started long before Matthew and I
ever actually met.
And when you think about it, most love stories
start that way. Every moment leading up to the
one in which you meet your future husband or
wife somehow shapes you and prepares you for
that person you were fated for. Any previous
heartbreaks or dark days or lonely nights can be
crucially important in the grand scheme of things
—sometimes we need to know what something
feels like when it’s wrong before we can ever
really know it when another thing is RIGHT.
So that’s why I need to start the story with a
little bit of background. The whole “girl meets
boy, boy and girl fall in love, boy and girl get
married” model is a little too simplistic for my
needs. You people want details, don't you? Of
course you do.
When I was 18 years old and working as a
waitress at a little family restaurant, I met a guy
who was 10 years older than me. He was the one
who came before Matthew. We dated for three
and half years, and even lived together during the
last year and half of that relationship. We moved
into a tiny little house and owned Gracie and
Cooper together and our relationship was never a
terrible one. He was a good guy, I was a good
girl, and we really did love each other.
But for every moment of those three and a half
years, I had a nagging, itching, aching feeling that
he would never be the right one for me. Despite
his great heart, he lacked ambition and drive and
handled his finances very poorly and, at the heart
of it all, was very insecure despite being a bright
and attractive guy. I understood him, though. I
understood that his family had never prepared
him for LIFE, and the poor decisions he had made
as a younger man had him caught in a sticky web
and a hole he just couldn’t seem to dig himself
out of.
As the years went by, he could give me less and
less of what I needed. Things became strained
between us. I was a terrible nag, and I see that
now. But the problem was that there were just
too many things about him that I wanted to
change. And as I began to realize that I could
never change him and shouldn’t have to, I
struggled SO much with what the right thing to
do was. It ate away at me day and night,
because I honestly couldn’t imagine my life
without him. And being alone TERRIFIED me.
Somewhere during all this, I read the book The
Secret which is all about the law of attraction. I
really, really believed in what it said. It inspired
me. I realized that I had not arranged my life in a
way that allowed for all the things I so desired. I
hate to skim over this because it’s so important,
but let’s just say that I KNEW I had to decide
what I wanted my future to look like and start
taking active steps towards attracting that future.
And staying in my current relationship at the time
was a major roadblock. I knew in my heart that if
I stayed where I was, life would always be a
struggle.
So one day the breakup finally happened. We
talked and cried for hours and finally decided that
we could never truly work. He decided to move
out and let me stay in the house and keep the
dogs because, on his income alone, he couldn’t
afford to live there (I made enough waiting tables
to cover the bills if pennies were tightly pinched).
I can honestly say that the 48 hours after that
break up were the toughest of all my life. I ugly-
cried those kind of tears that come from
somewhere inside you didn’t even know existed—
a place of fear and sudden awareness that you
are completely alone.
And that’s the place I was in when I met
Matthew. We met a mere 48 hours after the ex
and I called it quits, which could either be
considered really terrible timing or really great
timing. I choose to believe the timing was perfect.
But let’s back up again for just a minute.
Remember how I was working at that little
restaurant? Well, for a couple of years I’d been
waiting on my future in-laws without even
knowing it. We’ll just call them Mr. and Mrs. D
for our purposes here today.
They were an odd couple. Mrs. D was a beautiful
blonde and friendly as can be, and Mr. D was
quiet, reserved, and hard to read. I really enjoyed
waiting on them, though, and I found it amusing
when Mrs. D would occasionally mention their
son in California and how perfect he and I would
be for each other. She mentioned this to me on at
least two or three occasions, but I always
laughed and just politely reminded her that I had
a boyfriend. I came to find out later that, in
actuality, Mrs. D talked a whole lot more about
Matthew and I one day meeting than I ever knew
at the time; Mr. D now says he had to hear about
it every single time they came to the restaurant,
and Matthew, when he was in town, would
always go to eat there and would hear about me
then, too. But for some reason, I was never
working when Matthew happened to stop in with
his parents, and our paths never crossed.
But then one day, on January 19, 2009, our paths
DID cross. And to make it all the more strange, I
wasn’t even working that day—the encounter was,
TRULY, by chance.
Little did I know when I woke up that morning,
Martin Luther King Day and a university holiday,
that my life was about to be turned upside down.

Chapter Two

It was a Saturday that the ex and I had broken
up, and by Monday morning, though I was by NO
means “over” the breakup, I was feeling ever so
slightly hopeful; or at least looking forward to a
fun breakfast with a friend.
One of my male coworkers was (is) like a brother
to me; we were hired on at the restaurant around
the same time, and over the six and a half years
until this point in the story, he and I had become
close and occasionally planned a breakfast outing
to catch up on the events of each other’s lives. A
week prior to this aforementioned Monday, he
and I had planned to meet for breakfast at the
restaurant where we worked – only I got called
into work when another waitress went home sick.
I didn’t know it at the time, but this was a game-
changing move. One of those moments where the
Universe intervenes because that particular event
wasn’t in keeping with the greater plan.
Truth be told, if I had met my friend for breakfast
on that previously planned date, or if I had shown
up to the restaurant even a single moment later
on the day we DID end up meeting, Matthew and I
would have never met. My life would be
drastically different right now. Funny how the
smallest little decisions and changes of course
can alter the entire plot of your life.
So on that Monday morning, January 19 of 2009,
I woke up, got showered and dressed, and headed
out to a 9:00 AM breakfast with my friend. Like
usual, I was running a couple minutes late.
Once I arrived, I parked my car and walked across
the lot and into the little diner where my friend
Chris was already waiting in the line to be seated.
We chatted for maybe thirty seconds before the
outside door of the restaurant swung open and, to
my surprise, there was Mrs. D! She seemed
excited to see me and exclaimed, “Jenni! I know
this might seem strange, and I know you have a
boyfriend, but my son is here in town—we were
just leaving, and I saw you walking up—I’d love
for you to come out and meet him!”
I gave her a hug and laughed, saying, “Well,
actually, me and my boyfriend just broke up, so
it’s ok.”
I thought I’d humor her. Many proud mamas had
bragged on their sons to me before, and if or
when I ever did end up meeting these “handsome”
princes, things were usually awkward and
anything but a match made in heaven.
Mrs. D led me just outside the little foyer where
we’d been waiting. Her car was a few feet away,
and the driver’s side door was still open where
she had gotten out. I peered into the car and
there he was: the infamous son.
I’d be lying if I said I heard a choir of angels
singing, or if I said a bright light shone upon him
like some supernatural vision from God, but there
truly was instant attraction. He reached over from
the passenger side seat to shake my hand and
said, “Hey! Nice to finally meet you!”
He had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, and from
then on I was in somewhat of a stupor, which is
not unusual for me when faced with awkward
social situations (especially involving shockingly
attractive members of the opposite sex).
I said something along the lines of, “It’s really
nice to meet you too! I’ve heard a lot of good
things about you, and I just love your Mom!”
Mrs. D mentioned then that Matthew was going
home to California the next morning but would be
back in a couple weeks. I replied saying maybe
we would see each other again when he returned,
and the conversation wrapped up.
But in typical Jenni fashion, I had to say at least
one ridiculous thing before going along my merry
way, so just as I turned around to walk back into
the diner, I decided to poke my head in the car
one more time and say, “oh, excuse me SIR?
What did you say your name was again? I already
forgot!” Yes, I called him SIR. And as soon as
that word flew off my tongue I was mortified with
myself. Why the !@#$ did I just call him “sir?”
What an idiot!
He just laughed and said “Matthew.”
“Ok, thanks!” I replied. “Maybe I’ll see you again
soon!”
They left, and I went back into the restaurant
where my friend was waiting.
And just a couple moments later we were inside
and seated at our table near the back of the little
one room diner.
We ordered our breakfast and, after a few more
minutes, the hostess walked up to our table and
slipped me a little note. “That guy just came back
in and told me to give this to you. He saw you
sitting with Chris and didn’t want to be rude and
interrupt,” she told me.
My heart skipped a beat. I unfolded the little note.
Matthew had written his name and phone number
and the message: Be back in two weeks. Would
be great to hear from you!
I was shaking. I can’t explain it, but I felt like I
was dreaming. My mind was racing with thoughts
of how completely serendipitous this encounter
was, but how completely awful it felt to be
entertaining thoughts of another relationship so
soon after my last one ended.
One of the waitresses at the restaurant, a good
friend and mother-type figure to me, stopped by
our table and read the note. She had seen the
whole thing unfold, and the way Matthew had
come back in and stared back at me as I chatted
obliviously with my friend. With a knowing look on
her face, she said “Jenni, it’s a God thing.”
And she turned out to be very, very right.
Mrs. D and Matthew both corroborate the story
that, when they had left the restaurant after our
initial meeting, Matthew matter of factly told his
mother that I was the one. That he knew it. And
she said she had always known it. She told him
what I said about my boyfriend and I breaking up,
and Matthew demanded she turn around. They
came back, he scribbled his note on that little
piece of paper, and he went back in to find me.
And I COULD just say “the rest is history,” but
that really wouldn’t be doing the story justice.
The part that comes next is half the fun! I
suppose that sometimes fate might whisper, but
in our case, it screamed.
Chapter Three
Three full days passed after that fateful
encounter, and the little note Matthew had left for
me remained tucked away inside my wallet. I
certainly wasn’t following any rule on how many
days to wait before calling a guy; rather, I was
feeling pretty terrible about calling him at ALL,
given my still VERY freshly single status. My ex-
boyfriend hadn’t even moved out of our house
yet, and although I remained fully aware of that
note and secretly wanted to call the number on it,
I refrained. It just seemed so wrong to be having
thoughts about another guy so soon.
Then, on the afternoon of the fourth day, I went
to work and, as I clocked in on the register, I
noticed a bright blue, folded sticky note with my
name on it taped to the window beside me. I
pulled it off and opened it, and there was
Matthew’s name and number again, but this time
in the handwriting of one the hostesses who
answers the phone.
I turned to my manager and asked what it was all
about. “This guy already gave me his number!” I
said, confused. “What is it doing here again?”
My manager gravely told me that Matthew had
called the restaurant and asked for me the day
before, but since I wasn’t there, he simply left his
name and number with the hostess. “Is this guy
stalking you? Do you want me to call him?” he
asked with concern.
I laughed and said I didn’t think so. But secretly,
I was impressed with Matthew’s tenacity. He was
interested, and he wasn’t beating around the
bush about it. I liked that.
I texted him that afternoon and apologized for not
calling. I told him that I’d wanted to, but it had
only been several days since my ex and I had
broken up and it felt a little irreverent to be
calling another guy so soon. I said that I’d call
him when I got off work that night.
The reply I received went something like this: Ok,
little miss four days later! Good thing I remain
optimistic, ‘cause it was beginning to look like I
wasn’t going to hear from you!
Matthew later told me that those were the most
torturous four days of his life. He kept his phone
within an arm’s reach and pondered whether or
not I was playing hard to get or something. When
he didn’t hear from me right away, he had called
the restaurant (from California!) in case I had
“lost his number.” Patience is not this man’s
greatest virtue; I can definitely attest to that now!
I don’t want to skim over anything, but I also
don’t want to drag this out for weeks. So let’s
just say that I called Matthew that evening, and
by the end of about a one hour conversation, I
knew I had just met the man who would one day
be my husband. I called my best friend the next
day and told her so, which, naturally, was met
with a somewhat apprehensive “umm… ok?”
Truth be told, the relationship encountered quite a
bit of trepidation from my friends and family, and
understandably so. Everything happened so fast
and so furious and so SOON after the end of my
previous relationship.
Matthew was almost seven years older than me,
had a successful career in insurance and financial
services, lived states away, and still seemed dead
set on ME. People didn’t trust him, and even I
had my moments of doubt as things moved along
at lightning speed.
During the week after our first phone call, we
talked for hours every night. I learned that he was
a huge fan of the book The Secret, just like I was,
and he told me that he, too, tried to live his life
by the principles of the law of attraction.
Coincidence? I think not.
He also told me he had moved his trip back to
Texas up a few days so he could spend more
time with me, and our first date was scheduled
for less than two weeks after our initial meeting. I
remember getting a text from him just a couple
days before he flew back down to Texas, and it
said that he “couldn’t wait to have me in his
arms.” I was a little alarmed by this, given that
we hadn’t even had our first date yet, but I sort
of loved it all at once. It was nice to feel wanted
without that veil of pretense and cautious,
“acceptable” behavior. Matthew is one of the few
people in this world who throws themselves
shamelessly and without hesitation at whatever
they desire.
So we had our first date. I wore a little black
dress with heels and a bright green sweater, and
he wore jeans and a black button up shirt. We
met at Starbucks, we hugged like old friends, he
led me to the car he’d borrowed from his dad,
and he opened my door for me like a true
gentleman. He started the car and a CD began to
play – all my favorite songs, one after another. I
demanded that he admit he’d stalked my
Facebook and made a CD from all my listed
favorite artists, but he denies it to this day. Either
he’s lying, or we just have identical taste in
music. Either way, it was perfect.
And that evening began a week of “first dates.”
We had dinner together several times, went to the
movies, visited the nearby Natural Bridge Caverns
and Natural Bridge Wildlife Ranch in San Antonio,
spent his birthday with his parents and
grandparents, and then said a very bittersweet
goodbye before he headed back to California.
I think it was on the third date that week that I
really fell in love. We were deep under the ground
in the chilly caverns and listening to the tour
guide as she lectured on stalactites and
stalagmites, when Matthew wrapped his arms
around me from behind and just held me there as
we stood. I can’t explain it, but it just felt…
RIGHT.
A few days after he went home to California, on
Valentine’s Day 2009, I received a very special
delivery while I was at work – a gift that would
turn out to be one of the most amazing and
romantic things I’ve ever been given.
In part three, the story left off just after our week
of first dates and Matthew’s return home from
California, and just before Valentine’s Day two
years ago. I was at work that Valentine’s Day
evening when a special delivery arrived for me via
Matthew’s mom! I was too busy to chat with her
much when she arrived, but she dropped off my
gifts along with a gorgeous dozen white and red
roses from Matthew. He had arranged all this
before he left!
I waited to open my gifts until the restaurant was
closed for the evening, but believe me, I thought
about them ALL NIGHT LONG! Once the last
customer had finally left, I sat down at a table
with my roses, a large yellow manila envelope,
and a wrapped gift. A note on the outside of a
card instructed that I open the wrapped gift first.
In order to understand the significance of what
comes next, you have to first understand my
obsession with New York City. During those few
weeks that we had know each other up until this
point, Matthew and I had discussed how much we
both loved it there, and how it is my absolute
favorite place on Earth. So I opened my gift and
found this adorable New York picture that
Matthew had hand decaled with romantic little
words:
I was tickled by that, of course, but what was in
the big manila envelope was the real kicker.
Matthew had created this full page invitation
(with a beautiful photo of a bridge in Central Park
faded in the background), and it read:
(My Name)
You are hereby cordially invited to
“The City of Lights”
On Monday, the Ninth of March,
Two Thousand and Nine
at
The Ritz Carlton New York, Central Plaza
Enchantment will start promptly at 8:00 PM,
Romance will begin at first site,
…..Falling in Love will last a lifetime
Host: Matthew (Last Name)
Price of Admission: Your Company, Your Smile,
and Your Grace
Please RSVP by February 16th , 2009
We apologize for any inconvenience,
Kisses are the only form of payment accepted at
this time
Ummm, yeah. CAN WE SAY EVERY GIRL’S
DREAM COME TRUE?!?! And Matthew had also
created a fake airline boarding pass with the
assigned seat “next to your man” and with flight
and confirmation numbers matching the days of
our first two dates. I know. Sickening! I’m here to
tell you that not every man is completely clueless
when it comes to romance!
So needless to say, I accepted the invitation, and
that trip to New York City with my future husband
turned out to be the most fabulous few days of
my life. The Ritz Carlton ruined me for all eternity.
I will compare all hotel experiences to that one,
and nothing will ever match up. Matthew
convinced the poor fellow at the front desk to
upgrade our stay from a basic room to a two
room, two bathroom suite, at no extra charge (the
guy is a sweet-talker, what can I say?), and from
our room on the seventh floor (my lucky number)
you could sit on the window seat and gaze down
at sixth avenue and central park below. I spent
many teary moments on that window seat,
wondering when I would wake up from this lovely
dream.
Thankfully, I never did.
Matthew had brought along the movie Serendipity
for us to watch while there in New York, and the
next day after watching the movie in our cozy
room, Matthew surprised me with lunch at
Serendipity 3. Appropriate, yes? Here we were
inside the restaurant:
After that New York trip, Matthew and I continued
a long distance relationship. We would see each
other every 3-5 weeks on average, he flying down
to San Antonio where I lived at the time, or me
flying up to Huntington Beach, California where he
lived at the time.
In June of that same year, we took yet another
trip, but this time to Maui, Hawaii. Mind you, we
had only been dating four and half months at this
point, but I had a feeling a proposal was
imminent.
A couple of days into our stay, Matthew surprised
me with a limo ride to a location away from our
hotel, where we found a small table set up near
the beach, complete with white linens, a candle,
and a little vase of fresh flowers. We had our own
private chef, who was arranged about 10 yards
away, cook us one of the most delicious meals
I’ve ever eaten (some type of grilled Hawaiian fish
– whatever it was, it was amazing!).
BUT. Things really did not go as Matthew had
planned for them to or at all how he had
envisioned. We laugh about it now, but our
romantic and private little dinner table was
smack dab in the middle of a grassy clearing
between another hotel and an enormous ugly
apartment complex with hundreds of balconies
overlooking our little spectacle. We were also
within about 15 feet of an outdoor shower spicket
which people were coming up to from the beach
to shower off under! It was awkward to say the
least, and Matthew was pissed. At one point he
went over to the chef to “check on our meal,” but
he was really asking for the ring back – it was
supposed to be “served” to me with the dessert,
but Matthew was so displeased with the
atmosphere that he decided to postpone the
proposal.
The meal wrapped up, and I was feeling anxious.
Knowing Matthew, I had a feeling he wouldn’t
propose under these imperfect circumstances, but
I wasn’t sure!
We ended up taking our limo back to our resort –
and BY THE WAY. The limo was 1980’s style
Uncle Guido GREEN, inside and out, which was
another scenario Matthew had not planned for!
The whole ordeal was definitely laughable.
So when we got back to our hotel, Matthew
suggested we take a walk before the sun set.
Mmm-hmm, “a walk.” Ok, buddy! I thought to
myself.
As we walked along beside the gorgeous floury-
soft sand beach, we suddenly reached a little
clearing where there was a patch of green grass
beside the sand, and Matthew stopped. My heart
skipped a beat, and before I knew it, he was on
one knee, saying something about loving me a
whole lot and wanting to spend the rest of
forever with me, et cetera, et cetera. Honestly,
and sadly, I might add, I don’t remember his
exact words. Even though I expected this
proposal, I was still in some sort of weird shock.
Maybe it had something to do with the gorgeous
shiny rock that was sparkling up at me as he
spoke – just sayin’!
Obviously, my answer was YES. And I believe they
usually end these little fairytales with “happily
ever after.”
man, I miss that tan.
But the truth is, things haven’t always been super
easy; living states away from each other for that
year before our wedding was really tough. Once
we DID get married and moved into our home
together, we had to learn to live as a couple –
but I can honestly say that when you are deeply
and unselfishly in love, things aren’t that hard.
And I wish each and every one of you, if you
haven’t found it already, a love story just like
ours – not because our relationship is perfect
(because it isn’t – honest), but because we have
found a way to love one another despite. Despite
our imperfections, despite our quirks and
idiosyncrasies, and despite a sometimes uncertain
future.
This first year of marriage has taught me a lot,
and I can’t wait to share our journey with all of
YOU. This life can be a beautiful thing –
sometimes sad, sometimes tragic, sometimes full
of sorrow and suffering and pain – but ALWAYS
full of love.
I’ll leave you with something I wrote on a private
blog on Valentine’s Day two years ago, just after
receiving those gifts from Matthew:
I have learned to listen to my heart. I have
learned that if you never make room for better
things and better ways to be, if you never clear
out the things in your life that stand in the way of
your happiness, then you are not aligning your
universe to allow for amazing things. In this life,
you don’t find yourself. You create yourself. And
the same goes for love: you don’t find love, you
create a road for love to travel and wait for it to
come.