Take a Chance

By Alison Gunn

Truth only reveals itself when one gives up all preconceived ideas.

~Shoseki

"I'll most likely end up living alone in a townhouse with 100 cats," I told my friend. She was writing a Valentine's Day column for our college newspaper and wanted to get a snapshot of what students thought about their romantic future.

It's not that I hated Valentine's Day. I actually enjoyed being reminded that love existed, and daydreamed that my prince was just taking a scenic route while I ate heart shaped chocolates from my mum.

While most of my friends were paired up, and those who weren't appeared close, I seemed to be walking a separate path: one that led directly to the nunnery.

So I did what any self-respecting woman destined to be a forever cat-lady would do: lived my life, all the while keeping one eye open for Prince Charming.

I volunteered as a dog walker for the S.P.C.A., learned how to golf, and hopped a plane bound for Costa Rica where I backpacked the country with my girlfriends.

Back from vacation, and with Charming still in hiding, I resumed working as a lifeguard and swim instructor and prepared to have a fabulous summer with my friends.

"The problem is I have too many guy friends," I wrote in my journal.

It was true: I did have a lot of guy friends. Some were taken, and some were single, but all were off limits because of their co-worker status.

Over the last six years of working in what could be considered an extension of hormonal high school, that life lesson was ingrained in my head.

On the other hand, that line of thinking had brought me to this point: dateless. Maybe the saying was true: Guys and girls can't be friends. Who coined that? Maybe I should pick a guy friend and give it a whirl.

My brain was spinning. When you don't have a boyfriend, or even the possibility of one, the situation begins to feel desperate.

Even if you're sure of yourself at school and work, and proud of the life you're creating, when everyone else seems to be grabbing a partner, and you're still holding up the wall, the questions begin: What am I doing wrong? Should I be more sassy? Breezy? Flirty? Am I wearing the wrong bra?

My friend Mike broke up with his girlfriend before I went to Costa Rica. This was a good thing, as far as I was concerned. Together they were wet blankets, never wanting to join us after work for movies or adventures. They never had anything nice to say, and Mike had a tendency to be extremely black and white with his opinions, something I couldn't wrap my head around.

Subsequently, for the first six years of our work life, Mike and I were like oil and water. I sarcastically called him "Happy Time," and our paths barely crossed.

However, once he broke up with his girlfriend, he began to shed his cloak of darkness. By the time I returned from Costa Rica, he had started coming to Cheap Movie Tuesdays and Wings Wednesdays with everyone, and, it turns out he was a really interesting guy with a wicked sense of humor.

One day while we were working, Mike's parents arrived. They had come to Victoria for a visit and were checking in with him before heading to the house. A crowd formed around them at the side door of the pool deck as they showed off their newest addition: a puppy.

Even though I'd never met them before, and had zero designs on their son, I felt like I'd known them forever.

In December things started to shift. "Have you ever noticed that Mike has a nice back?" my friend asked as we switched places on the pool deck.

"No," I said, squinting across the pool to where Mike stood, trying to see what she saw. Sure there were muscles but it was just a back. Nothing we hadn't seen in the thousands of swimmers who came through our doors each year.

Something in that moment resonated, and altered my view of him just a sliver. But, I pushed the moment aside, and rationalized that whatever-that-was happened because my co-worker was noticing him. If she wanted to go after him, she could. I wasn't his gatekeeper.

Determined to keep Mike securely in the friend category, I continued to pester him during hockey games, beat him at car racing, and steal bites of his chocolate torte when he wasn't looking.

Then early on New Year's morning it happened. He kissed me.

Just like in the movies, I backed away; convinced this was a giant mistake. I'd never had a guy friend like him, and now our friendship was ruined, or on the path to ruin, and I had no one to blame but myself and my dumb need to have a boyfriend.

"I've wondered since August why no one's snatched you up," he said. "Take a chance."

After years of bellyaching about a lackluster love life, I couldn't believe I was hesitating. But there was too much at stake.

We talked until 7:30 in the morning. Even after all that discussion, I still wasn't convinced that whatever this was, it was worth ruining our friendship over. But I trusted Mike, and blindly jumped, letting go of all doubt and reason.

Mike and I have been working together for eighteen years, and married for ten. We have three adventurous daughters ages six, four, and two and a dog. Turns out, Prince Charming was hiding in plain sight. I just had to open my eyes.

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