Every Tuesday night during our senior year of college, Mook and I cleared our calendars to head over to the local Mexican restaurant for Margarita Pitcher Night and $2 tacos.
I loved this tradition--we were still in the very beginning of our friendship (not dating), so there was never any lapse in our dinner conversation. We talked about everything: ranging from the class we dreaded going to the next morning, the kind of music we loved, and the silly questions people who are flirting ask, like: "If you could make-out with anyone right now, who would it be?" (I was silently praying he would say ME)
We would stay for hours--and I never got tired of hearing Mook laugh at my jokes, touch me lightly on the arm or ask me what I was doing after we left dinner. We usually ended up going back to my apartment to watch "Office Space" (Hi, Peter. What's happening? We need to talk about your TPS reports) I hated when Tuesday's ended. I had to wait a whole week to spend the evening with someone who I realized meant more to me than just a friend.
The last Tuesday we spent together before graduation, is one that is etched in my forever-memory. I remember what we both wore, what we talked about, and that feeling in the pit of my stomach that made me never want to leave that restaurant.
We did leave the restaurant, and we left college-without each other. Thank goodness our friendship had developed enough, that we kept in touch at least every few weeks by e-mail or a phone call.
After some time had passed, we realized we couldn't keep denying pitchers of Tuesday night Mexican margaritas their consumption! What a waste! We just had to be together for the sake of those tortilla chips and salsa...the $2 tacos....and that fantastic dinner conversation.
On Friday night, when Mook and I went to our current favorite Mexican locale, we did our typical rescuing of the margarita pitcher and as we went through 2 baskets of tortilla chips, we took a moment to rewind over our Mexican memories. Then our conversation shifted to present day-and we ended up discussing how different our topic of thought for the night wa from our "make-out" talks years before. But a few things haven't changed: our openness with each other, and the time we take to listen to each other's thoughts. The topic for the night being: our next steps.
We are going to look into doing 2 more rounds of IVF--the big questions to answer before committing are: 1) should we do chromosome testing to rule out doing any more treatment at all, 2) skip the chromosome testing and just add PGD to the IVF, 3) what do we do about our adoption feelings in the mean time. Those are 3 heavy things that has taken us 3 months to get to, so the phone calls will get done this week, to see where we go from here. I am so nervous to open this door again. What if we do have chromosome issues, what if we don't have any embryos that make it through PGD? Are we prepared for the answers we will get?
So while our lives have changed so much in 5 years, he still laughs at my jokes and touches my arm to let me know he's there. Our conversations are still fun and I get that feeling every time I look over the table at my husband.