When Dave and I started dating, I was a gigantic commitment-phobe. I wouldn’t have even really called it dating. I mean we were hanging out and having fun. He was way more into me than I was into him and we both knew this.
Sex? Sure.
Spend the night? Ahhhh… no thanks.
I thought he was too nice. He opened my car doors. He liked my family. He owned a suit and took me for sushi.
One night after we had been seeing each other steadily for a few months, we were on our way to get dinner. I don’t even really remember the context of the conversation we were having anymore, but just as he was getting out of the car, I blurted out, “I love you.”
Sheer panic set in immediately.
And then, I instantaneously thought, “What the fuck did I just say? That did NOT just come out of my mouth. WHY??? Why would I say that?”
Not because I didn’t mean it. Even in all my denial about him definitely NOT being “the one,” at that point we were both stupid for each other . It was flat out shock. WHO does that? Certainly not me. Not ever. No way.
Maybe he didn’t hear me.
He was half out of the car when I said it and paused for half a sec, then leaned down to smile at me and asked me to repeat myself.
So I said the first thing that popped into my head, “I love Thai food.”
He responded with, “I thought so.”
Then, he made fun of me the rest of the night and I sat mortified trying to explain it away. I can’t be in love. This isn’t love. No, no, no, noooo way.
But you all know it was. It is.
He stands by my side and is proud of my accomplishments. He holds my hand through the tough stuff and celebrates the amazing stuff. He is the man I get to make cute babies with only now, he’s legally obligated to spend the night. And every day, he is the person I wake up next to. And argue politics with. And make fun of and laugh with. He is the hardest working man I have ever met. He is a present father and strong role model. He willingly and daily puts in half the work it takes to make our marriage a success.
I get to be absolutely stupid for this man for the rest of my days.
And all because one night I blurted out, “I love Thai food.”
What is your love story?









