Thursday, February 21, 2008

The Official Press Release

The other day, 19 February, The Hubby and I have celebrated three years of being married. By November this year, we'd have been officially together eight years; by June, we'd have known each other 20 years. This is the story that I will tell Rainey.
We were batchmates in high school. The Hubby doesn't remember our first 'date'. But I do--it was traumatic. We both lived in the dorm. His good friend Al and my good friend Deanne, The Hubby and I had managed to score gate passes to SM City on a school day. This was in the first few weeks of our freshman year--we were all promdis excited to go malling. So as we were wandering around the hallowed halls of SM, our second home back in high school, in our tablecloth school uniform, we run into my dad. Busted on my first try at playing hooky.
We never really hung out in the same crowd. The Hubby was one of those limelight kids, always in the center of everything, in a huge barkada of the popular people. I, on the other hand, liked to stay in the background with my tight, small group of friends. Our last high school encounter--he was the date of one my two high school best friends, and we sat at the same table at the Grad Ball. Must dig up the picture of that.

College, we'd run into each other at the CASAA and he'd regale me with tales of his numerous panganays. Fast forward eight years post high school graduation. The Hubby organized a batch gimmick, which my mom forced me to attend (so we owe my mom big time). I walked into the now defunct Gensan on Jupiter, and the rest, as the cliche goes, is history.
The Hubby took one look at me and decided never to let me go (hey, this is MY version). He rigged the seating arrangement so that we'd sit next to each other. I didn't notice him or his machinations at first. I was telling an old friend that I had just quit my ad agency job and was now a freelance writer. Said friend advised me to get a rich boyfriend to drive me around on my assignments, and I said I needed a car more. Suddenly The Hubby piped in, "I have a car!" And I retorted, "But are you rich?" And he said, "I will be in five years." Talk about pick up lines that work!

At the start, we weren't really dating. We were ostensibly just keeping each other company till I found my rich boyfriend with a car, and he found his playthings (he had just decided to shed his choir boy image and be a playah). Yeah, right. About five weeks later, we were officially a couple. And thus began a tempestuous relationship, full of high drama, two major breakups, a lot of heartache but a lot of happiness as well. We were both ultra sensitive people who held grudges so our relationship was never easy.

What I've noticed among people we know--when you have a major breakup, you either stay apart and count your blessings, or you realize that you can't live without each other and you get married...

We chose the latter, obviously, and two years later we were blessed with our beautiful Erynne Isobel.
And three years later, we have less of the tempestuousness, more of the laughter. I guess after 20 years, we're finally growing up.
Acushla, here's to eight years and counting...

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