Happiness Is... Love Story, Pt. 6

All the privilege I claim for my own sex
 (it is not a very enviable one, you need not covet it)

 is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.

[Anne Elliot, Persuasion]

I was still waiting for that phone call from the first boy.  It's amazing- hope's tenacity.  Baffling, really.  I hoped against hope that he would call one day.  I knew that he wouldn't.  But every time the phone rang, I still wondered.  I hoped when there was no hope left.

This is what stared me squarely in the heart while I was in Monterey.  And this is what I came home  wondering what to do with.  Of course, I couldn't resist Creighton's company once I returned.  We gradually resumed our back and forth dance, spending more and more time together-- while I went to work on killing my hope.  He and the pretty blond girl eventually went their separate ways, and by that Christmas, we were meeting each others families.  I remember walking into his house on Christmas Day, filled to the brim with parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, and feeling....at home.  Creighton's mom always had a way of making me feel like I was wrapped in a warm and snugly blanket.  The rest of his family welcomed me with open arms.  I had a hard time remembering why I was so unsure whenever I stepped through that doorway.

But that wasn't the only burst of sunshine throughout all this time.  There were days and hours and moments of wonderful interspersed throughout our story during that first year;  times when I felt so happy with Creighton that I could glimpse a future with him.  For the most part, I loved spending time with him.  We could wander around the grocery store and have a great time.  Being with him was like reclining in the coziest of easy chairs and letting out a sigh of contented relief. 

One day, not long after Christmas, I was with Creighton and his family, but lost in thought, digging through the webs in my heart to understand my feelings.  My mind was in overdrive trying to figure out why the past still haunted me, and what to do about it.  In the middle of my heavy, heartbroken thoughts, a crystal clear voice brought me to attention, and said:

 Creighton would do anything in this world to bring you happiness. 

I looked over where Creighton was standing and a feeling of light and joy spread through me from my head to my toes.  I knew it was true. Creighton equaled happiness.  For the rest of the evening, I couldn't look at him without smiling inside. 

I could feel my heart take in a sliver of light in that dark and airless space, and Creighton could finally feel it from me. Not long after, we were strolling on a sidewalk downtown on a crisp, calm late winter day when Creighton slipped his hand into mine for the very first time. And I felt that frozen part of me begin to melt.  

That spring, Creighton and I took a trip to New York City and Washington, D.C. with our friend, Kevin.  We stayed with Creighton's sister in New Jersey, and his brother in Maryland, and all the while, I dared to imagine myself married to him.

Listening to Collin Powell. Memorial Day 1999. Washington, D.C.


In July, I invited Creighton to come with my family on a vacation to Yellowstone and the vision grew clearer. One evening he was reading to me in the cabin and I finally had that feeling that there was no place on earth I'd rather be than by his side, listening to his voice. He could've been reading the dictionary, and I would've been equally content. The next afternoon, we decided to take a walk in the forest.  It was a forest of tall, thin trees with silver trunks and branches reaching up to the sky. Leftover leaves and twigs crunched beneath our feet as we walked.  We paused mid-journey and happened to be standing under a beam of dusty light that made it's way through the canopy above.

In that hazy light, and enveloped in the happy glow of our friendship, Creighton asked me to marry him.