I clearly remember the first time I saw her. It was five years ago. She was standing at a copier. She had on gray pants and a long sleeve silky white shirt. She had the longest brown hair I had ever seen in my life.

I was instantly transfixed. I wanted to meet her, but I had to be sure that the conditions were right. So, I called in the CIA of my office, Angie, Carol and Kim. First step was I had some freelance work. I notified everyone and asked Kim to tell the new girl, so that she could have an opportunity for extra money. She emailed me. Bingo. I had her name and other pertinent information.

Next, the CIA and I staked out her cube. She had a picture of a little girl holding a cucumber. Okay, could be a niece. But could be a daughter. Alarms started sounding. The covert operatives did some checking and discovered that it was a daughter.

Damn! Where there are children there are usually significant others. I was ready to abort the mission.

Then I got a call from Agent Angie, “She is unattached. Repeat. She is unattached. Proceed with project Happy Hour.”

We set up a happy hour that Wednesday. She was able to come. In my nervousness I drank too much too quickly. I made a total ass of myself by talking too loudly. She left. DAMN.

What followed was a group lunch that led me to request a personal meeting in the form of a date. I asked in an email. IDIOT. No one accepts a date over email.

But it was the only way I could do it. I was nervous. I was out of practice. Plus, what were the odds that a woman as beautiful as her would ever consider going out on a date with me. I’m a geek for crying out loud!

She said yes. I’m not sure if she saw it from her cube, but I launched head first into the ceiling out of excitement.

The next few months were a whirlwind. I fell in love. I fell hard and fast. And over coffee in Denny’s (Literally, the coffee was all over the table and my arm because she spilled it) I realized that I would do anything to spend the rest of my life with her.

Months later I picked a ring, with ample advice from my big brother. I didn’t ask any of my family to join me, except for that one bit of advice. This was something I was doing on my own. For the first time in my life, this was mine.

I had this elaborate plan. We’d go to the scene of our first date. I’d have the ring in my pocket and we’d chat over coffee for a while. And then I’d pop out the ring and ask her.

It was a great plan. Such a great plan that I emailed Angie to tell her all about it. She still has the email somewhere in her vast archives.

I picked up the ring and hid it in my brief case. The plan was to ask her that weekend and it was only Tuesday. I went to her place for dinner after work, as usual. We put her daughter to bed and settled down to watch TV for the evening. I lasted exactly one minute.

It wasn’t exactly romantic. Not like I had planned. But it was certainly from the heart.

You see, when you realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you don’t want to wait for the rest of your life to start. You want it to begin right at that moment.

I didn’t want to wait. I knew then, as I know now. We were meant to be together. Not exactly like Romeo and Juliet, mind you. But, more like the couples in those goofy Sixties pop songs.

And so here we find ourselves. Three years ago today, I did the smartest thing I’ve done. I married the woman of my dreams. I’ve loved every single moment.

Each morning I wake up and I see her and I smile. That’s my wife. When she was showing off her truly unique watercolors to our friends I thought, “That’s my wife.” When she was holding our daughter for the first time, tears streaming down her face I thought, “That’s my wife.” When I make her cry by saying something insanely stupid, tears well up in my eyes and I think, “That’s my wife.”

Three wonderful years have gone past. In one sense they feel like only a moment. In another sense, they feel like a lifetime.

Ours is a relationship that feels more mature than it is. It’s a three-year-old marriage, but I feel as though I’ve known her all my life. As if, when each of us were conceived our hearts were automatically destined for one another.

And after three years I can still get lost in those eyes.

Happy anniversary honey! I love you more than I can possibly ever find the words to express.

If I haven’t said it enough . . . Thank you for marrying me.