When I started dating at seventeen, getting married hadn’t entered my mind. I was not one of those girls who has visions of a fairytale wedding from the moment someone reads her the Cinderella story. I actually hadn’t given any thought at all to plans for my future. The direction of my life had always been steered by my parents, and I’d never gotten around to questioning it. Neither of them had attended college, but a college degree was something my mother expected from her only child. I liked school so I had no problem with that plan.

The fact that I was dating at all was remarkable, because although I’d had crushes on cute guys, I’d been careful not to show any interest. In truth, guys my age made me nervous. I was more comfortable around adults. Maybe the fact that Evan was older than me and seemed as nervous as I, boosted my confidence. He had also broken the ice by writing me a nine-page hand-printed letter, telling me his life story. What young guy does that? I was curious enough to accept a first date, and we’d gone out every weekend since.

Evan had a year of college and two years in service behind him plus some dating experience and was ready to start looking for a wife. I was just starting to get my feet wet on the dating scene, so I was quick to tell him I never planned to get married. It was true. I’d never really made plans at all. I was taking life one day at a time and waiting to see what might happen. I’m sure my declaration surprised him, but it didn’t totally discourage him so we kept dating on weekends. During the week he worked in another town.

I completed high school, and when fall rolled around, my dad announced I would be going to the local junior college in town. I was disappointed because none of my friends would be there. Still, I knew Dad didn’t make a lot of money and he didn’t believe in owing a dime to anyone, so my living at home made sense. I’d go there two years and then worry about what came next.

I was no longer nervous around boys, and the college boys were eager to make friends. Suddenly I had a lot of male friends. I didn’t tell Evan, but it didn’t seem smart to marry the only guy you’d ever dated. After all there was five days between weekends. He’d had dates before me. I needed to see what else was out there. I had fun going to the college activities with guys, but I wasn't serious about any of them.

We didn’t talk about it, but I knew Evan assumed we were exclusive. Since he was only home on weekends, I didn’t worry about being seen with other guys during the week. He was from another town, so I hadn’t expected to be seen by his family either. I just hadn’t counted on his younger brother, fresh home from the Navy, being interested in checking out nearby towns.

The day he saw me with four boys was a perfectly innocent occasion. We’d walked from the college into town and decided to go get sodas and fries from a local restaurant. These were purely platonic friends. I'm almost positive three of the guys were gay, and the fourth was engaged to a girl from his home town. We were seated and ready to order when I noticed his brother seated at the bar. I had no doubt there would be a conversation between him and his brother which would change everything for me.

I was right because, even though Evan came to take me out, it was like being with a stranger. He was polite but he was clearly upset. I tried to explain, but it was no use. It was like anything he’d ever felt for me was gone. We went to a movie, but afterward he took me home. There was a sadness in his eyes I’d never seen before. I hoped in time things would return to normal, but our following date was even worse.

I realized he was stalling for time until he could find the words to end our relationship. It was killing me. Suddenly, I knew he was all I ever wanted, and I was about to lose him. I wrote him a letter and told him we had to talk. “You need to come on Thursday night. Something has to change. It can’t wait until the weekend.”

I didn’t know if he would come, but he did. He pulled into a secluded place and said “Okay, talk!”

I’m sure he thought it was me who would say it was over, but I shocked him when I said, “I’ll marry you.”

He might have said, “You cheat. I don’t want to marry you anymore”, but instead he asked, When?

I said, “Anytime. I’m ready.” I could almost hear the iceberg melting. The love of my life was back, and I had no regrets. It took almost losing him to make me realize he was perfect for me. I also realized I was capable of making my own decisions. I had just made a monumental one. My parents were off the hook. They wouldn’t be making any more decisions for me. At eighteen, I had come of age.

The college semester had ended. I got an engagement ring on the weekend, and a month later, we were married and living in Jackson where he worked. I spent the rest of the summer getting acquainted with a whole new way of life, but as fall approached, I realized by marrying, I’d given up an opportunity for a college education. I wasn’t regretting my decision, but I was a little bit sad. I didn’t mention it, but he did.

“Do you want to finish college?” he asked.

“We can’t afford it,” I told him.

“We’ll figure it out. Go check out the school and register. I didn’t marry you to make you give up your dreams.”

By going summer semesters and overloading my college hours, I was able to graduate in two and a half more years. We didn’t end up with any student debts. We had some tight years, but together we learned how to manage money and how to make a good life. I had sixty-one years with this man and I don’t regret a day of it. We made decisions together, but independently as well.