I met Diane in High School. She was a Junior and I was a Sophomore. We met at a Valentines Day dance. I wasn’t planning to go to this event, and as I found out, neither was Diane – each of us had no date. Nonetheless, each of our respective friends talked us into going — they didn’t have dates either and as the saying goes “misery enjoys company.” 

 

I didn’t know Diane and she didn’t know me  nor were our friends in cahoots with each other.

 

Being your typical 14 year old boy, I was goofing around with my friends and I saw Diane out dancing with her friend Nancy. I said to my friends “she’s cute . . . I wouldn’t mind dancing with her.” 

 

Now what’s interesting about this part of the story is that I actually thought Diane was someone else named Anne (I didn’t know Anne either). Diane and Anne had the same color hair and length, were the same height, and had very similar body shape and facial features from across the dimly lit gym.

 

Unbeknownst to me, at about the same time I was checking Diane out,  she tells of a similar story. “Hey, do you know who that cute guy is outside the gymnasium door there?” Nancy responded “oh, that’s just Brad; he’s in my English class.”

 

Sometime not long after, Diane and Nancy made their way to the ladies room in the corridor where we were hanging around  and as they came through the door, my friends felt compelled to try and embarrass me by pushing me into Diane and taunting “he wants to dance with you!”

 

Poor Diane, she had a mouth full of those Goobers peanut candies and had to try and navigate her way to the ladies room while dodging a 6 ft. tall goober awkwardly stumbling toward her with the grace of a bull in a china shop — complete with platform shoes which then made me really more like 6′ 3″.

 

Well, that’s how we met and we dated for about 7 years after that.

 

We dated through her going to college and me immediately taking a job after High School as a computer operator for a large insurance company on the night shift.  We even dated (kind of) with a long 9-month gap in between when I moved from Massachusetts at age 19 to work for the insurance company’s parent company in Southern California. We dated  some more after I decided to move back to Massachusetts because even though I loved California – I hated living there (it was a traffic, fruits & nuts thing).

 

When things started getting on towards the 7 year mark, I believe Diane was starting to get a little antsy — I’ve heard that women tend to get this way when they feel they’ve invested great personal and emotional energy into a relationship with no apparent plan for commitment in sight.

 

One day, Diane and I were coming from doing some spring cleaning at my parent’s cottage on a pond a few towns over from us and we were involved in a terrible accident. 

 

We were driving in a little Subaru Brat and were hit broadside on the passenger side by a Ford Gran Torino. The police accident reconstruction  estimated the teen driver was traveling at about 75 mph before he skid 110 feet, hit us on Diane’s side, pushed us 90 ft. into a telephone pole and then continued to skid another 110 ft. Turned that Subaru into a banana.

 

Neither of us remember any of the accident or much after — we both banged heads against each other and into windows and other parts of the car (Subaru Brats didn’t have a whole heck of a lot of room inside as they were basically 2-seat-er mini pick-up trucks).

 

Anyway, I digress. It was about that time I realized that this incident was God’s way of making it clear for me to see the truly precious gift he had presented me, and that it was time I returned him the promise to honor and cherish this gift as he expected.  

 

Now it’s funny because after 6 years, Diane was thinking that she had me all figured out. And despite my ability to remain predictably unpredictable, she would “. . . know when I was going to pop the question” and that  she’d  “. . . see it coming a mile away and I wouldn’t be able to surprise her!”

 

Ha Ha — he chortles. For those of you who don’t know me, Brad is the master of “Can Do!” And if you tell me I can’t — I WILL — just to prove to you I can!

 

So, secretly I purchased a diamond engagement ring. 

 

Now mind you, it is important to realize that although sexual promiscuity was somewhat rampant in the 80’s, both Diane and I abstained through our years of dating. It was important for me to respect this virtue and so I met with Diane’s father (and Diane’s mother didn’t even know) and told him my intentions and plans and received his blessing.

 

Remember she did say she would  “. . .see it coming a mile away.”

 

I artfully orchestrated a weekend getaway to Maine under the guise of meeting up with friends who were leaving separately.

 

We drove to the rocky coast of Pemaquid Point, ate our fresh boiled Lobster and steamed clams with the spray of the breaking waves misting past us. The only sounds were the ocean, seagulls and the minimal conversation between us as we gazed out across the horizon together as if we could see our futures moving towards us with the tide.

 

I brought my acoustic guitar and although I really didn’t have any particular songs I knew how to play, I serenaded her with improvisational ad hoc compositions (yes, Brad is actually very musically talented too –  wouldn’t you expect that of a great DJ?).

 

At the very moment when I could tell that ”the moment” was the furthest thing from her mind, I knelt before her on the jagged rocks, opened the black velvet ring box and asked “Diane, will you marry me?”

 

She never saw it coming!

 

At the time of this writing, Diane and I are about 11 months away from being married 25 years. And although there have been times where we were physically apart (such as those 9 months in SoCal), there have been barely a handful of days where we haven’t been together — either physically or by phone. 

 

We have enjoyed unique professional careers for the same employers in the insurance and investment industries.  Now, we are in the process of building our own entertainment and events services company.

 

Diane, you’ve said I write so well and that you hope someday I will write something for you.

 

This is for you Diane.

 

I love you. Thank you for saying yes. My life would mean nothing without you.

 

Brad