Game Night: How I Met My Husband

            How do we learn to trust in others or ourselves? Trust in others comes from opening ourselves up to the possibility that we can rely on someone else, that someone can be worthy of our trust. Trust in ourselves-- that can be a little more difficult to achieve.

There was a great deal going on in my life when I was twenty. I was facing my stepfather in court for molesting me, raising my (his) daughter in my mother’s home, and tending to my siblings while my mother drove truck over-the-road. My stress level was through the roof, and my mother finally insisted that I take my friends up on their invitation to game nights every Friday to try to relax.

I was surprised to find that the first game night I attended was to be at Chuck’s house. He was a friend of my friends and my siblings, but I did not know him very well. The thought of his presence made me extremely anxious and giddy, and I had no idea why. This was only the fourth time I had ever seen him, but it was the first time I had officially “met” him. All night, my heart was racing as I sat next to him.

It is a strange feeling to suddenly have a group of guys flirting with you, while all you can think about is the one who seems uninterested in you. All of my friends at the time were male. Game night consisted of everyone getting together to play Dungeons & Dragons or other verbal role-playing games. Perhaps I had never noticed any interest shown towards me from the other guys and only became aware of it because I was suddenly engrossed by Chuck, but before that night, it had never seemed like any of them had taken notice of me. I had always felt like “just a friend” to them all. On this night, however, I felt overwhelmed as each of them seemed to vie for my attention. Their behavior was rather unnerving, as I was not used to it.

Meanwhile, Chuck sat calmly beside me, simply preparing to play the game. We were playing a new game called “Rifts” which allowed a character to have a primary ability and a primary flaw. He had chosen brute physical strength as his primary ability and a peculiar anger management problem as his flaw. (His character would go blackout berserk if something irritated it.) Seeing an opportunity to lighten the uncomfortable evening up, I chose lightning speed and an obsessive-compulsive disorder. The other guys thought that my choices were absolutely useless, but I had a devious plan to high-jack the storyline and try to impress Chuck.

Everyone finished building their characters. The game master, Jason, began telling the story. He set everyone up in a dystopian city, placing the brothers Jesse and Gene in one part of the city, Chuck in the sewers, and me in a café far from the others. The story brought us together quickly and gave us a quest; I do not recall what it was because it seemed ridiculous to everyone playing anyway.

My character (Menolly) started making trouble almost immediately. We reported to a resistance commander, and Menolly could not help herself as she started organizing the man’s desk. Chuck’s character became infuriated, blacked-out, and took a swing at her with his tree trunk arm. She ducked out of the way (successful throw, go me!) and he struck the character behind her (Jesse’s).

The night continued on in this manner, my character instigated and Chuck’s character responded, and lightning speed allowed her to dodge so that his punches landed on other characters. Honestly, I thought that they would not want me to game with them anymore. As it turns out, everyone except Jason really enjoyed the abstract gaming style I had brought that night and insisted that I return the next night for a special game of Werewolves.

It was time for me to leave. Chuck rose to walk me to the door, and I felt butterflies in my stomach tossing about madly. Before he opened the door, he told me he would like to ask me something. My heart somersaulted. I had no time for boyfriends. I had a daughter, things going on in my life, a brother and sister to take care of. I anticipated the question, planned to say “no”. I rehearsed my rejection and apology in my head as I waited for him to speak. I had never had to do this before. No one had ever asked me before, and I was not certain that I would have turned someone down before. It was not that I wanted to turn him down. I just felt that it would not be fair to subject him to my insane life at that specific moment. Aside from that, I had a child. I had to think about what was best for her, and I didn’t know him. All of this was swimming around in my mind, as he seemed to struggle to say what it was he wanted to ask me.

“Do you think you would want to date me?” he asked sweetly.

“Yes,” I said, before even half a heartbeat passed—before I could even process the words he had spoken. He almost seemed to falter for a moment, as though he had expected me to say “no”. My brain buzzed with disapproval and confusion. Why did I say “yes” when I had meant to say “no”? What was I going to do now? My eyes refocused on Chuck. He was smiling from ear to ear, but waiting patiently for me to say something else. I wondered how I was going to fix my gaffe.

Instead of remedying my mistake, I fled. I thanked him for a wonderful night, jumped in my car, and left. I spent the next two days fretting over what I was going to do. My mother kept telling me “just go with it” and that maybe my subconscious recognized something I needed in Chuck that I was not seeing. 

Finally, I gave in. I went to his house and talked to him about what had happened, how I felt about it, and what my concerns were. He told me that he would give me whatever space or support I needed. This reassured me greatly, and we started dating regularly about a month later.

I found him to be the single most supportive, considerate, loving, and caring person in my life. He has stood by me through the most tumultuous and the most wondrous moments of my life. We have been happily married for ten years. I cannot imagine what life would have been like if I had not decided to place a little trust in him. Not only have I learned to trust other people, I have learned to trust my instincts. I now know that my instincts tend to guide me down the right path, whether I know it at first or not.