February 22, 2010. That was the day I met Alexis.
March 4, 2010. Our first date. The result of a loser-buys-dinner bet I conveniently lost.
August 19, 2010. Less than six months later, we’re moving into our first apartment together. Sounds crazy, right?! Those two will never last, you say?
Ha! Well, the joke’s on you ’cause now we’re married!
Not only did Alexis and I move in together less than six months after meeting one another, she flew across an ocean to do it.
We met at the University of Utah where I was a visiting student for one semester. Alexis used the same student exchange program (UH Hilo NSE shout out!) to come back to the University of Hawaii-Hilo with me the following semester.
Yes, I’m a pretty lucky guy.
I thought I would be coming back to Hawaii and moving back into my filthy college dude house with my buddies (read what Alexis wrote about that house here), but instead found myself looking for cute one-bedroom apartments that were just slightly cleaner and more respectable.
We made our first home at 50 Maile Street, Hilo, HI 96720. Quick aside: Years later, we would discuss naming our first daughter Maile in memory of our first home. But… Miley Cyrus.
Still, the Waiakea Lagoon View Apartments were perfect. We were young, we were in love, we were building a life together.
It was completely furnished and move-in-ready so there wasn’t much in the way of fixer-up or DIY projects except for one very odd thing we did:
The bedroom contained two single beds rather than one queen, king, double, what have you. Easy enough fix, right? Just push them together an buy king size bedding. Not that easy.
The bed frames had wheels rusted on, far past the point of removing, and the floor was hardwood (or probably laminate, but whatever). The first couple of nights, the beds were sliding all over the place. Even the slightest movement made them slip, slide, and separate.
Our ridiculous solution that just made me crack up thinking of again: I tied the beds together with rope I found the trunk of my car. As I pulled tightly to prevent them from coming apart, we grew concerned we might feel the ropes in our backs every night. But, hooray! I had an eggshell mattress pad that worked brilliantly and we didn’t feel a thing.
I suppose you could say those beds and our ridiculous solution were a metaphor for our relationship: Two people meeting by chance by being placed in the same room, and finding a way to stick together no matter how slippery the floors, how little time they knew each other, or how far apart their worlds were.
That’s us: two single beds tied together with rope covered in an eggshell mattress pad.
In all seriousness though, I’m so glad we made that leap of faith. Sometimes in life, regardless of how rationally crazy something might seem, you just gotta go for it.
I loved every moment of sharing my home, and in the process creating a new home, with my future wife.