"Head Over Heels"

That's the title of a Go-Go's song, so that's why it's in quotation marks. It's also the way Jerry makes me feel, in a wonderfully good way. Even before I actually met Jerry, I felt as if I had known him. How is that even possible, you ask? Or, maybe you don't. Gonna tell you anyway. When I was 16, I went to a Go-Go's concert with a neighbor girl - not a huge outdoor event or some mega arena, but a good sized concert, I guess. There were hundreds of people there. I suddenly felt the need to turn around and look up at the balcony section. Nobody was sitting up there - everyone was down on the floor. It was as if someone unseen grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face in the opposite direction. I saw a man in a black coat wearing a beret walking alone in the balcony section from the right to the left. I can still call up this memory at will, after all these years. He wasn't doing anything special, just walking, but when I saw him I heard a bell go off. This "ding" was as real as any music I heard that night. I was torn between the almost irresistible urge to go find him and talk to him and stay where I was. What would I say to him if I saw him, anyway, "Hi, I heard a bell go off and the universe compelled me to come talk to you"? Besides, I never dated anyone or even really talked to guys unless it was about homework. He walked out of sight, I turned back around and snapped out of my trance. I didn't really think too much about hearing that bell afterwards. Seven months later I was having a string of rather incredible luck. I had won a call-in contest and won a Prince album - Purple Rain. I thought that was a pretty good get. That put my name in a drawing for the big prize of 2 tickets to see Prince in concert. Out of the hundred or so people who won an album, my name was drawn! Woo, hoo, I was going to go see Prince - as soon as I could talk one of my parents into going with me. Remember, I was 16. Mom took the day off work (and let me skip school) and we went up to the radio station for the long ride to Tallahassee (it was an all-inclusive trip). We're sitting in the lobby (me, mom, and the other winner and his guest), waiting for the DJ who was going to drive us all down to Tallahassee. Suddenly the door flies open and this guy full of energy bounds inside, stopping to say hello to the receptionist before turning to greet everyone else. That bell went off again! I know this sounds corny, and silly, and like fluff from a romance novel or movie, but I truly knew right then and there that this was the man I was meant to be with for the rest of my life. I had forgotten all about the previous ringing bell 7 months earlier. As a matter of fact, it wasn't until just last year when I told Jerry about it. He knew my story about the bell going off at the radio station; I'd told him enough. Suddenly that memory of the guy walking across the balcony popped into my head and I said, "Did you ever go to a Go-Go's concert?" He said he did and remembered it well. He had been all alone, just walking around. I asked him what he was wearing, if he'd even remember that. He said he was the only guy in town who wore a beret back then. I told him I believed I had seen him that night, and the bell had gone off then, too. He then told me had a photo he'd taken of himself that night before going to the concert. He pulled out a photo album and showed me the man I saw walking across the balcony. I burst into tears, which is not something I'm prone to do. These weren't tears of sadness, though, they were tears of joy. I've become a firm believer in fate, destiny, and kismet. Why am I telling you this story now? Because this weekend is the 26th anniversary of the date the universe introduced me to the man I have always loved.