I Picked An Ass

We need to establish a relationship.  In order to do that there is a bit of opening up I need to allow myself on this end.  Since I am the one writing publicly my name is my name.  I am not hiding behind a pseudonym.  My family, however, has not asked to be front and center, so out of respect for them I will use code names.  My husband is lovingly going to be referred to here on out as The Ass.  Trust me when I say that is truly a wonderful compliment.

Close to thirty-four years ago I attended a mixer at a boys high school in the middle of what seemed to be ‘Nowhereville’, Virginia.  Somewhere between “Tainted Love” and the perennial favorite of the day “Rock Lobster” a bushy blonde boy got up the courage to ask me to dance.  He had a surfer vibe and didn’t really adhere to the preppy mold of the day. Being from the beach, as you may have read in a previous post, this got my attention and I said yes.  We dated for the next year. He was warm and funny, he always made me feel like I was the most important thing in the world.  There was never a shortage of laughter on his part, and I scared the crap out of him as I was the daring and impulsive one. We fell very much in love.  After a bit of time that became too much for me. It was all too perfect.  I didn’t know what to do with the level of feeling I had for this boy as we were so young.  So I did what any girl does when she can’t handle it, I broke up with him.

Fast-forward thirty-one years, two kids, a divorce, and a whole lifetime later.  I felt the need to move from New Jersey and begin again. I connected through Facebook with people who lived in places I considered it might be nice to move.  I always wanted to stay near the beach and on the East Coast, so I concentrated on states like Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carolina. With the exception of high school and college in Virginia, I had lived in the Northeast my whole life, so the Southeast seemed like something new and different.798250_4357977998225_1213038201_o

My mind went to that bushy blonde surfer boy and I thought it would be nice to see where he was and if he had any insights into South Carolina as that is where he was from when we dated. So I did what anyone does in todays internet age, I googled him.  The information was vague and didn’t lead to a Facebook, Linkedin, Twitter, or any other form of social media that I could see.  I was only pretty sure that he was still in South Carolina and had never been convicted of a crime.  Facebook was my only social media platform at this time. I decided to take a stab at it and look for him there.  When I input his name I got about ninety or so possibilities. I glanced down the profile pictures without even clicking on their profiles to see if I could narrow it down. In about ten seconds I saw the picture you see above.  A picture of an ass.  When I clicked on the profile it was absolutely private except for the name and picture.  I knew it was him.

I sent a private message to check and got no reply for about a week.  Knowing that private messages from non-friends sometimes get buried in a file we can’t see, I decided to go for it. I friend requested him. It took exactly forty-five seconds for him to accept the request. After a quick exchange I confirmed it was the bushy blonde boy. We messaged for a few days and then talked on the phone. A few months later we worked out a visit. The flood of love poured out of us like we had never spent thirty-some years apart. a year and a half later we married.  We never want to waste another moment apart that we don’t have to.

There it is, I picked an ass.  He is my ass and will lovingly be called The Ass in this blog. We now have what we call our ‘Zuckerburg anniversary’ in honor of the man who created the means for us to reconnect. The Ass replaces the Z with an F because he can’t stand to give credit where credit is due. I don’t know how I was so lucky to have him be that same boy, just older, grayer, rounder, and a lot balder. He still makes me laugh and makes me feel as if I am the most important person on the planet.  I am grayer, rounder, and a bit older myself, but he still thinks I am beautiful behind the wrinkles of my eyes.  He is adding to the laugh lines and I wouldn’t change that for the world.

Reinventing Julie - a blog for the middle age empty nesters


About Julie Mason

Julie is a nearly fifty year old almost empty nester. Life is interesting, ever changing, fun, infuriating, and Julie wishes to share it with you all. She hopes to learn along the way as well and write about anything and everything that strikes her fancy.

10 thoughts on “I Picked An Ass

  1. You know another great lady first acknowledged him by referring to him by the same term of art. It was my eccentric, brilliant mother in law during a scrabble game. He pointed out that she was looking into the bag to select her tiles. It wasn’t the first time they’d met & yet, she hadn’t uttered a word until then and she said, “(name), you are an ass.” Perhaps that inspired the profile pic that inspired you! Wish you had met her, she too didn’t give a good god bless America what anyone thought.

  2. This is so incredibly sweet! I love this. I’m so happy for you guys “The Ass” is such a great guy and I’m so happy you guys found each other again.

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