After telling my buddy, sitting next to me on the couch, that I was going to marry my future wife the first time I saw her walk through the door, there came the task of figuring out if I actually loved her. Some people have those magical moments during a kiss on the beach as a meteor shower streaks through the heavens or in the midst of a dance, their bodies pressed so close that their heartbeats captured the same rhythm, blending into one. Me, I literally fell into love, and lived to tell about it.
Waterfalls have a way of working their own kind of amorous voodoo. Maybe it is the majestic power of thousands of gallons of water throwing itself off the ledge that makes them romantic. Or perhaps the loud roar drowns out anything you could say to mess up the moment. As a man, it provides a veritable playground of obstacles on which to prove your worthiness to win the heart of that special person, to the tune of "Hey ya'll! Watch this!"
Sitting on your keister in the middle of a frigid river after slipping on a wet stone, is the perfect time to strike a sexy pose with the mist of the falls in the background, though it probably won't help much with the bruises. And while they say size doesn't matter, when your ankle swells up to the size of a four square ball, leaving you to be helped down the 2.3 miles back to your car, it does give you opportunity to earn sympathy points. Just what any woman wants, a man who cries every time he tries to put his foot down.
How did I know I was in love? She made meatloaf. I love meatloaf, though I imagine they could have been a bit more creative with the name to make it sound a bit more palatable. Must have been a whole lot more practical with names in those days. Glorious meat and other goodness loaf is a bit of a mouth full.
There I was propped on the couch, foot elevated, developing frostbite under the ice pack and a steaming plate of meatloaf. With mashed potatoes. And she did not laugh at me, at least not to my face, maybe when she returned to her dorm room. In that moment, I knew the score of love is kept not by how many, but how much you cherish the one.
And good meatloaf.