Falling in love

As I alluded to in the story of how we met, the first date that Christine and I shared in Boston’s North End was lovely, but it didn’t ignite anything immediately. She had just started a new chapter in her life by moving to Boston and starting a new job. And just as I was flirting with a coworker at the time we met, as I embarrassingly recounted in an earlier installment, she was doing a bit of the same (without the escalator part).

Since we had mutual friends, we would still run into one another from time to time. We would smile and make a little small talk, but it was usually kind of awkward. One vivid memory I have from this period is her coming to a New Year’s Eve party at my apartment. The story didn’t end with us kissing as 1999 turned into 2000. But I remember seeing her in her red dress and wishing that things had turned out differently after our date.

As the spring of 2000 approached, we met up for coffee at the Starbucks near her apartment in Brookline, Mass. I can’t remember how it was initiated. My guess is that she put out a feeler through a mutual friend, and I jumped on it. The awkwardness gave way to easy conversation again. I think we both walked out of there thinking that we were heading for something more.

Christine had recently taken a trip with friends to Spain and Italy, and the same group was planning another trip to Cancun. They invited me to join as well this time. But Christine was juggling other demands and didn’t feel like she could get away for another trip so soon. So, that left me with a choice: stay home and see if a relationship bloomed with Christine while we weren’t under the watchful eyes of our friends, or take a trip to Cancun with all of Christine’s friends—but not her.

Only a true idiot could screw that decision up, right?

So, I packed my bags for Cancun and enjoyed a lovely week of sun and adventure, while Christine stayed back in Boston and worked. It was actually a very fun trip that I still remember fondly decades later. But I was wishing she was with us the whole time.

At one point during the trip, I wandered off from where our group was sitting on the beach without telling anyone that I was leaving. After a while, my friends became worried that I had drowned or something. They later discovered that I had gone to the hotel pay phone to make what at the time was a very expensive phone call to Christine.

Not long after the trip, our relationship became official. From there, things took off fast and never slowed down. I’ll elaborate more in the future about all of the things that made her so special, but for now, I’ll just say that she was one of the most unique, talented, and resilient people I’ve ever met. She changed me for the better in ways I feel more than ever now that she is gone.

When the September 11 attacks occurred in 2001, Christine was working at an advertising agency in Boston’s John Hancock Tower, which is the tallest building in New England. The two flights that hit the World Trade Center originated in Boston and flew right by her, and her building was evacuated soon after the attacks. I can’t remember how long it took me to get in contact with her, but it felt like an eternity.

As those who lived through it know, it was a very sad and scary time. It wasn’t clear whether additional attacks were going to follow. We learned that two of the hijackers stayed at a motel that was only about a mile or so from where we lived.

While many other people were impacted much more severely than we were by the attacks, the feeling of not knowing whether Christine was safe brought clarity about just how important she was to me. I decided that I wanted to marry her.

And twenty-two years ago today, on May 10, 2003, that’s what I did.