"just knowing"

I was reading my usual daily fix of blogs the other day when I stumbled upon this beauty of an entry: http://www.sundrymourning.com/2007/02/22/the-gamble-and-the-guess/
I read her every day. She's amazing. But beyond that, it really made me think about my recently engaged self. How did I know?
When William and I "met," we had already been acquainted with each other since high school...our lockers were five lockers apart. We never spoke a word to each other. He remembers me being loud and "gossipy"--meaning, talky--and I remember him as silent and standoffish.
Fast forward about six years. Here we are. Getting married. To someone who I would consider "out of my league"--but damned if I'm not going to hang on and pretend I'm in this league, too. I was just the other day thinking about how we've lived together almost a year--this is the month he bought the loft we now live in--and how it's flown. We're engaged. We got a dog. We painted the living room wall twice. We just are finishing the bathroom. We grocery shop together. We discuss decorating and daily schedules and dreams with equal time.
On his birthday, I wrote him a short story about how I fell in love. And that's something you can just feel, you just know. You don't know if it's going to last, if you're going to discover some awful thing that breaks the deal, you don't know if yuo will be one of those darling old couples in line at the pharmacy that still holds hands fifty years down the road.
I'm not a religious person, but I liken this to blind faith. The unshakeable belief that it might not always be a fairy tale, but that you know you will try to make it work with all your might, because this is the best person for you that you can imagine. That this is what is meant to be.
Our second "date" wasn't much of a date, but it is where I fell head over heels, in a way that I have never ever felt in my life, even when I was in wonderful relationships with wonderful people. it was so hot outside that air conditioning was barely working. I don't remember what I was wearing, but I remember what he was wearing: cargo shorts and this light-blue T-shirt that I will forever think of as my favorite. We went to the MOA for some massive air conditioning, and we got lost in Barnes and Noble, poring over photography books and talking about art. We headed back to my house, and I was trying to convince him to go swimming at Fort Snelling. We got back to get my swimsuit, and while I was packing up my stuff, he sat on my bed with his iPod. Then he told me he had some music he wanted me to hear, so we shared his headphones and lay back on the bed, listening to some dreamy hip-hop mashup stuff that I completely fell in love with. I can remember the sun, I can remember the bed, I can remember the song--the one that still makes my heart race when I hear it--I remember being thisclose to him while we listened since we both had an earphone and we held hands. Its was the most indie rock silly little moment where I was so unspeakably happy. It was like he knew exactly what would make me fall in love--and it worked.
I finished the story to him--talking about how I felt like swimming still when he left, how I felt like I was standing on the edge of a diving board as he walked out the door...and I held my breath, and I jumped. And I'm still falling.
That was over a year and a half ago, and I still feel that way, that there are still things I'm discovering about him, he still does things that make me fall deeper and deeper in.
I can't say that I know where we will end up forever. I can't say that I know our future will be perfect with each other. But I know that this is the best gamble I can make. That is the one with the best odds--I feel like it's a sure bet.
In some ways, I was relieved to hear that other people just guess--that they never have an aha! moment where an answer to a huge life question comes clear. I don't think those exist for every decision I will have to make. I think as children we think that as we become adults, we have all the answers, to only find out that the questions get bigger, the risks bigger. And we only have some past experiences to rely upon, or secondhand stories, to help us decide what's best.
But over this past year, which has definitely been a roller-coaster for me, one thing that has been rock solid has been William and I.
And when he asked me to marry him, and I just kept saying "When did you have time to do this?" on some level, I was stalling the moment, there on Ka'anapali Beach, in the dark, with the breeze blowing, in paradise. But when I really, really think about that moment, I can still recreate it in my mind. I still sometimes get distracted by my ring, hardly believing that this moment has happened to me.
And that's what tells me that this is the best, the closest I'm ever goign to get to experience the you just know feeling. No divine interventionist will come and tell me, "Katie, this is the right decision."
Everyone who knows me well knows I like to poll people on things: what to buy, what color to put in my hair, what's going on in pop culture. But this was one time, more than buying a pair of skinny jeans, more than going red, that I understood this was the right thing to do. And, ironically, after telling everyone about it, they have all enthusiastically agreed. I didn't need it beforehand.
I'm not all-knowing, I'm not perfect, and I've definitely made bad decisions that I thought I was initially right about. But when I think about all the times that we have weathered, even in a short less-than-two-years---cancer, joblessness, moving in together, sickness--we've been there for each other. And every day feels just as important and exciting and supportive as the last.
I'm still falling. I hope--and I feel that I'm probably right--that we'll be holding hands in the pharmacy line when we're 70. I just love him that much. And if I love him that much now, it can only get bigger as time goes on. That's the great side of the affairs of the heart: with love, your heart knows no capacity.