I can’t believe it’s been 9 whole years. It’s
been the longest 9 years of my life, I’ll tell you that much. Not
really. It’s flown by. Want to hear how it all started? Imagine this..
It’s July 20th, 1990 (I had to google this
today because I had no idea of the actual date). I had just turned 14
and my brother & I had tickets to the "Depeche Mode: Violator" tour
at the now defunct Salt Palace in Salt Lake City. We were too young to
drive so our parents drove us 40 miles north to the show. There I am,
just to the left of the stage, rocking out when I turn around to see a
very dreamy boy a few rows back. He’s there with his twin brother & a
bunch of friends. My little 14 year old heart is skipping a beat and as
any 14 year old can attest, it only takes mere seconds of seeing
someone to know you are completely and utterly in love. So, I keep
turning around to see him throughout the show and now it is time to
leave. My 14 year-old heart is breaking. Who is this
person? If/when will I ever see you again? I’m too shy to talk to him,
besides he had hair down to his shoulders and looks like a caveman. He
could have been twice my age. Too scary. So I go home, lay in bed, and
am very very sad. We were soulmates, didn’t he know?? I vividly
remember thinking, "Whoever gets to marry that boy, will be the
luckiest gal in the whole world. She will never know how
lucky she is" (I now get reminded.) So that was it. He never saw
me, I never forgot him. Six months later I’m walking in the mall, as
most 14 year olds do, and there he is. He walks right past me. "Keep it
cool, KEEP IT COOL" I keep thinking to myself. This is fantastic news.
He must live somewhere around here. He again doesn’t see me, or my
braces or any of my teen glory. Fast-forward another year, I see him at
the movies, again, no loving. Not even a glance. But I haven’t
forgotten him. About 6 months after that, I am driving in the car with
Mom and I see him sitting on the grass in front of the Dairy Queen…
with a girl. A GIRL for crying out loud! A girl who is the complete
opposite of me. A girl who has long, long blonde hair AND no braces.
"Well, if those are the kind of girls you are interested in,
I’m OVER YOU!" I was very sad. It had at this point, been nearly 2
years since the Depeche Mode gig.
It’s now early May of 1992. I had just turned 16, and my girlfriend
calls to say that while she was driving home the night before, a
carload of boys tried picking up on her while she was driving down
State Street. They want to get together & go to the Drive-in and do
I want to go? "Sure, I guess I’ll go. It’s a Saturday night, I’ve got
nothing going on." So I put on my OMD shirt and go. I get to her car,
and there HE IS. I am fah-reaking out inside. Screaming like a crazy
person. For reals? It’s really YOU?? "Keep it cool. KEEP IT COOL! "Um,
hi, I’m Morgan." The only thing I really remember that night was going
into the bathroom by the concession stand and just dying inside. I
couldn’t believe it. I needed a moment to compose myself. No one knew,
not even my girlfriend. I call her the next day to give her the juicy
details and she says, "Oh my gosh! You have to tell him!" "What
are you, a complete looney? I can’t tell him. That’s like the creepiest
story ever!" I tell him. He thinks it’s like the coolest story ever. I
mean, I was borderline stalking him for like 2 years. Who wouldn’t be
flattered? (He loves this story, by the way). So we date all summer
long. I break up with him at the end of the summer. We were only 16 ,
it was too much. We don’t talk again until the following April. We are
17. We decide to go to Prom together. As friends. We go to the Symphony
to see Beethoven’s 9th, and take a horse-drawn carriage ride. It was
one of the most romantic dates ever. Too bad I wasn’t interested. We
keep talking, and date again, all summer long. Then, I break up with
him. I just need my space. Chris refers to this time in our life as
"The Cold War." No talking, no getting together the next the summer.
We are both dating other people. At this point, we are 18. A whole year
goes by. He turns 19- and goes on his mission to Russia. We kind of
start writing on & off and patching up our past. There was a lot to
patch up and just a lot of overall growing that needed to happen.
Anyway, he comes home in Sept of 1997, we get engaged on New Years Eve
in San Francisco (an unfortunate story which deserves it’s own post)
and are married May 15th, 1998. That was 9 years ago. Thanks for the great adventure, sweets. It was meant to be!
Happy Anniversary!
(the pics are from Prom, 1993, we were 17)
xoxo
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