This is a follow up to Part I: The Hook Up
Jason and I are the couple that never should have been. After that fateful day back in February of 2000, he drove me home, offered to take me out that night in fact, but I already had plans. And I had plans the next night too. I went to a concert in Ottawa, to see my favourite band, and I had the most exciting thing happen to me: the lead singer came down off the stage, held my hand and let me sing with him. So when I got home that night, I was bubbling over with the news. I even called Jason, though it was 2 am, and I’m sure he was expecting to have ‘a talk’, but my concert experience eclipsed whatever had happened between us, so poor Jason was lef in the dusty aftermath.
During the next few weeks, I managed to fit Jason into my schedule here and there. Our time together usually consisted of watching the first 10 minutes of a movie, having sex, and then I would go home. Not typical girl behaviour, I know, but if it bothered Jason to have this kind of arrangement, he never said a thing. Actually, that’s pretty much the long and short of it: 5 years later, he still hasn’t even asked me out on a date! He’s a quiet guy. After about 3 weeks of this, we should have broken up. And we probably would have…I would have stopped returning his phone calls, been unavailable: that was my M.O. I didn’t want anything long-term; I didn’t want a boyfriend. I was in high school for goodness sake! But then something happened that would change the course of things: I got mono.
Ah, the kissing disease. And yes, I totally got it the fun way. I was a party girl, I went out every weekend and a lot of week nights. I had a good time and made a lot of friends (wink, wink). When I got mono, I thought ‘Hey, great, now I won’t even have to bother with letting him down gently…I’ll be out of the picture for 6 weeks and we’ll forget all about it.’ But that didn’t happen. Instead, Jason visited me, pretty much every day. We would make grilled cheese for lunch and watch Wedding Story on TLC. I don’t remember very much of this time together, I was delusional and on very heavy medication, but I still looked good enough for Jason to fall in love. I know I know: puke! I just hate this mushy stuff, but bear with me.
When I came out of the whole mono thing, Jason was still hanging around. He asked me to stop seeing my other ‘friends’, and I did. We had a lot of laughs and we went on adventures and had good times. He was a good friend, but I was still resisting the word boyfriend, even though by this stage in the game, Jason was already professing his love for me.
Sidebar: the first time he said I love you, we were on the phone, and it
went like this.
Jason: I love you, Jamie.
Jamie: Goodnight! (slams down the phone)
And it continued on like that for a loooong time. Why the hell did he stick around?
My friends started teasing me that I had a boyfriend. I never had boyfriends. I hated the whole boyfriend thing. Yuck. I preferred to keep it simple, have fun with a guy for a couple of weeks, and part before any attachments are made or anything has time to go wrong. It was a nice system, but somehow I couldn’t do it with Jason. It was different right from the start.
And then it was time for prom. I did not ask Jason to be my date. I wanted to go alone, because alone is fun. Alone means potential! But then Jason broke down and invited himself (Remember, he wasn’t a student at this time, and really had no business inviting himself, but he was desperate…when Jamie’s alone, she comes home with mono. Or worse.). So, we went. As the Queen, I had to dance the first dance with someone else, but after that, it was all Jason. Lucky guy.
The next big event in my life was choosing a school for my post-secondary. By this time I was fed up with living at home and looking to get far, far away. I was looking at schools between 3 and 7 hours away from my hometown. Jason moped through all of my campus visits. He knew that by being so far apart, I was likely to get up to my old tricks again. He had no faith in me, isn’t that awful? I’m suuuure I would have behaved. Really I would have. But in the end, I decided on the closest school, good old Ottawa U, a mere 100km away (about an hour’s drive), and I did it for Jason. It could have turned out to be a horrible decision, (my mother was very vocal in telling me this) but I think it turned out all right. The first month I was away, Jason visited pretty much every day, which is a crazy amount of driving, but he did it. And after exhausting himself that first month, he got smart and found himself a new job, moved up to Ottawa, and rented us an apartment. We went from drug-induced sex to living together in 6 months flat.
A few months later we were engaged ( I was 19, he was 20) and by the next year, in June of 2002, we were married. Our parents at first were shocked and outraged. Our friends thought we were crazy. But everyone agreed, we make a great couple. My former roommates from University would spend their Friday nights at our place, because just being around us is entertainment. We are charming, and funny together. We tell the best stories, although this one rarely gets told…when Jason’s Grandma asked how it was that we first got together, he blushed and I said we were high school sweethearts. That’s not exactly a lie, and everyone knows we did go to the same high school…it just puts a more positive and socially-acceptable gloss on the actual truth.
We got married down in the Dominican Republic. That in itself is a whole nother story, one I’m sure you don’t want to hear. Every 4th couple seems to have a wedding-disaster story, and ours is no better and no worse. But it got the job done, and in the end, after some clever mental editing, I remember mostly only the good parts.
Back in Canada, we had a big reception for friends and family. It was a great party, but then, all our parties are great. We danced the night away, spent great time with friends from all over (Jamie came from Alberta, Melissa from Quebec, my uncle from B.C.). I danced with my mother. People ate meatballs (I stayed away from these people in my white dress…hehe, white dress, that’s a good one). My sister Jan took some amazing pictures. And there you have it, we were official (even though our marriage certificate is in a language we don’t speak).
None of our friends have caught up yet, none are even engaged. Neither are any of our parents, for that matter. We’re still the only married couple around, a constant source of amusement to many. And as far as happily ever after, only time will tell, but so far, all signs point to yes.