This week marks a very special occasion in our relationship. Not you and me, dear readers. Me and A.P. This Wednesday is the anniversary of our first date. Five years ago this Wednesday, A.P. and I met for the first time and went out on our first date. I remember sort of fleetingly thinking that maybe this was the person I was going to marry, but it wasn't until a few months later that I was brave enough to write it down (I'm always a bit superstitious) in a journal I was keeping at the time.
A.P. and I had a somewhat unique date and it's thanks to him. We talked on the phone about different things we could do: movies, dinner, etc. But A.P. was pretty set on it being something unique and memorable. He made an offhanded remark about making a cake together and I jumped at the idea. I told him he could come over to my apartment and we could make the cake there. It was only later, as I was shopping for ingredients, that I realized it might be kind of weird to have someone I've never met come over to my house. I think I called one of my girlfriends and told her A.P.'s name and phone number, just in case. I also realized that I was in the middle of a huge reorganization project, which meant my place was a disaster.
In order to get ready for A.P.'s arrival, I pretty much dumped the clutter in my bedroom. I cleaned and made my place presentable. I have no recollection of what I wore, but I remember trying for casual chic. And then I waited. And I waited. And I waited. I actually thought I was getting stood up. Finally, I called up A.P. and asked what gave. He apologized and explained that he'd accidentally fallen asleep (our first date was on a Thursday...a work day). He promised he'd be over soon.
And then he arrived. My heart was beating fast as he came up my stairs with the goofiest grin on his face EVER. I'm not going to lie, ladies. When I first saw A.P. I kind of freaked out. He looked so...young and...thin. I was afraid I would look like a giant beast next to him!
He came into my apartment and asked if he could use the bathroom. When he went in there, I began freaking out. I started doing some serious silent screaming. I thought this was going to be such an awkward date!
But it wasn't at all. Instead it was totally comfortable and great. We made our cake (yellow cake mix from a box) and while it baked in my tiny oven, we talked to each other. I remember that I offered him a beer and he took three sips and didn't finish it. We sat on my couch and talked and I sat next to him, looking at his face. Up close, he wasn't so young looking. He had fine lines around his eyes and mouth. He also had a lot of gray hair. From the side, he actually looked kind of distinguished. I remember thinking that I could look at his profile forever. I also enjoyed listening to him. He had the slightest twang to his voice.
When the cake was done, we had to let it cool. I had these sparklers leftover from the fourth of July sitting on a shelf in my kitchen. A.P. saw them and we decided to light them on my back porch. We went out there and blew through a couple of boxes. After, we frosted, then ate our cake.
At the end of the night, I walked A.P. to the door. He told me that he had a good time and that we should do it again soon. I played it so cool and was all, sure whenever. He reminded me that he was going to New York the next week for work. I told him I'd talk to him when he got back because up until then, I assumed that's how guys operated. None of them ever called you right away. You had to play that shit real cool. You had to wait at least a few days. And he was leaving in a few days and he certainly wasn't going to call some girl he just met while he was away on a business trip. I assumed, like I think a lot of single girls would, that he wouldn't call me until he got back in town. He looked me right in the eyes and said, "Oh no, we'll talk before then." And then he broke all the rules and called me the next day. (See? He was great from the get go!)
It's been a long time since I really thought about our first date and all those giddy feelings I felt. Five years seems like a good time to reflect. Anniversaries are good like that. But now, too, we have two anniversaries: the anniversary of our marriage and the anniversary of our first date. A.P. and I have been getting into a debate about celebrating anniversaries. He says that now that we have our wedding anniversary, we shouldn't really celebrate the anniversary of our first date, mumbling like his 80-year-old self* that, "You can't have anniversaries for everything." He thinks that the wedding anniversary is the bigger one, but I argue that if it weren't for the first date anniversary, we wouldn't even have the wedding anniversary. In his heart of hearts, A.P. knows the futility in arguing anything about anniversaries with me. He knows he'll celebrate it and it will be awesome. I may even girl out this year and make him look at old photos. Who knows what the week will hold! In the end, we both like celebrating. Now we just have another excuse.
Which anniversary do you celebrate? Do you still celebrate both?
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*I always refer to A.P. as my 80-year-old boyfriend. So much so that on his groom's cake, I put the number 80 on top!