In Fact, There Was No Spark at All....

I saw a post that someone had shared on a Facebook page asking how you met your significant other/child's father/husband etc., and if there was a spark there right away or if it took some time to develop. It got me to thinking about something I don't think about too much - how things began with Arianna's birth father. Of course I think about the ending all the time (too much, really), but I rarely think about the beginning.
I took a part-time job in the summer of 2006, right after I graduated high school. He had worked there for a couple of years, but I didn't meet him right away. Coincidentally, he was away on paternity leave when I started (ironic, isn't it?) and came back about a month or so later. Mind you, I was 18, and knew he he just turned 30. I remember the day he came back like it was yesterday, although I'm not sure why, because he meant nothing to me then and didn't make much of an impression on me then, either. I still remember it, though. I had just gotten my nose pierced and one of the first things he said to me after introducing himself was that it "looked cute" on me. I remember turning that awful shade of red that I think all pasty Irish girls like myself can relate to. I remember, for a while, I was very quiet around him and he intimidated me. He never did anything to upset me or anything, in fact, we barely even spoke or interacted with one another. But he was a big guy, seemed to have authority over everyone else who worked there, and wasn't shy about anything, and that intimidated me. So, fast forward to December or so - I heard through the grapevine that he was moving out of his house (he lived with his girlfriend and their 8 month old daughter). Around this time, you could cut the tension with a knife and he was really edgy. He had an attitude that was just awful. He said something to me that offended me and I wound up in tears, begging my manager to change my hours around so I could work a shift opposite his. We were in a department the size of your average master bedroom. I wanted away from him, and fast. For months (by months, I mean until March) we didn't speak to each other. Even when we were the only ones there, we did not speak. If I had a question about something, I went elsewhere to find my answer. We simply ignored each other and I was fine with it.
One day, somehow, we were alone yet again, and ended up laughing about something. I don't think we meant to laugh at the same time and we certainly weren't laughing together over it, but we both laughed. It was like all of the issues just went away, and it was a weight off my shoulders. I didn't have any feelings for him whatsoever at the time, but it was nice to be able to walk in and say 'hello' rather than walking in the opposite direction of a co-worker.
Some more time went by, and we got to talking in the mornings because we both worked at 5 a.m. We found a common ground in talking about cars and music, and he was talking about some CD that he liked a few years back and I told him that I actually owned that CD (I think it was Mase or something crazy like that) and that I could burn it for him if he wanted a copy. He gave me his phone number and told me, "don't play the way you normally do. Don't be shy, if I don't pick up, leave me a message." That was how numbers were exchanged. Over the next month or so, we talked a lot about his car and how he wanted to modify it, convert it, etc., which is something that I was genuinely interested in. I've always loved cars, and he got so giddy talking about it that you couldn't help but be interested in what he was selling. We developed a pretty good friendship in that month alone. Then, when my birthday came in April of 2007, he called out of the blue and asked me if I could meet him in Boston. I went, and we got in his car and went to Chili's to "celebrate my birthday." He paid for our lunch, and still, my mind never went anyplace other than a strictly platonic friendship. Over the next few months, we talked more and more and hung out outside of work more and more, and it was that summer that I finally started to see him in a different way. I had loved him like a brother for a while - he protected me, looked out for me, and talked to me about anything. But towards the end of the summer, I started to wonder about us. I started to feel like something was bound to happen; it was only a matter of time. I had never been with anyone at that point, and found myself thinking more and more that he was someone that I wanted to be with. I thought about it, a LOT. (TMI warning)! I was still a virgin at the ripe young age of 19, and really felt like I wanted him to be my 'first.' I talked to my friends about him all the time. How close to perfect it all was, yet in hindsight, it wasn't perfect at all.
One night, around the middle of September, he told me that he was going to get his car towed from one garage to another, and he wanted me to be there with him (I'm telling you, the cars were like children to him). I went, and we hung out and talked while we waited for the flatbed to come get his car. We ended up lying on the front lawn of his cousin's house half-cuddling and I was over the moon. I remember that night like it just happened...I can even remember what I was wearing and everything. I couldn't think of one place I would rather have been that night. I remember wanting to kiss him, but I was too shy. It felt like it would have been "right," but I just wouldn't make that move, and I think he was trying to be respectful and not make that move either. I was now at that crossroads that no one wants to be at: do we go for it, and possibly risk ruining our amazing friendship, or do we just let sleeping dogs lie and stay just friends? I did know for sure, though, that I definitely had feelings for him by that point. And that they wouldn't just 'go away.' Two weeks later, on a Sunday, I was at work alone and he called (he called every Sunday because I worked alone in the afternoon, so we would talk to pass the time) and said he was having a bad weekend for whatever reason. I agreed, because I remember that I was just having a bad day. He asked me to meet him in Boston again when I got off work. I met up with him later that night, and we went to a reservation area with a huge pond and miles of woods. We called it our 'mountains.' It is beautiful there. We just went for a walk and ended up lying down up against a giant log that was at the top of a hill. Not to get all gushy - but you could see the stars through the trees and hear the water and it was about as close to perfect as you could make it. So, as the story goes (the part you've all been waiting for!), this was the night that he kissed me for the first time. I had been waiting for so long for it, and when it finally happened, it was almost as if nothing else mattered at all. That was September 30th, 2007...and the rest is history. Well, it's history until January of 2010 when I ended up pregnant. But you get the idea. Everything in the middle - the fun, the laughs, the fights, the tears, the drives, the screaming, the talks, the sex, the letters - has made me who I am today. Sometimes I miss it all, and sometimes I wish it all never happened. Sometimes I cry about it, others I laugh. When I start to think about the good times, I feel empty, I feel sad. But when I start to think about the bad times, I feel glad that they are behind me. He was a lesson learned, as was our friendship, and as was our relationship. I wouldn't change a second of it, though. Everything has it's repercussions, every action creates a reaction. Changing one second of our history might mean that our little girl wouldn't be a part of this world right now. And while I do live without her everyday, I still couldn't imagine living without her.
So, that's how we met, and that's how it all unfolded. If someone told me years ago (when he and I weren't even on speaking terms) that we would end up where we are today, I would never have believed it. Hell, I probably wouldn't have even done it. Despite all of the pain, resentment, anger (etc., etc.,) of it ending, and all of the hell I went through with him for the duration of it, I have to say that I'm glad I didn't look before I leaped.