how we connected
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It is March 22nd, 2020 and I’m going to tell you how Rowinski and I connected one year ago today. We have been each other’s for one whole calendar year already and these past 366 days (‘cuz leap year this year) - getting to be his girl - have made up the best time of my life. This is OUR LOVE STORY, PART 1.
It was a normal teaching Friday. At this time in my life, I’d commute on the train right after work to the city for therapy every Friday afternoon. On this Friday, before I got in my car to drive to the train, I stopped and took pictures of some of the murals at Welling Court.
I remember feeling inspired to capture the art. I obviously didn’t know it then, but in retrospect - the energy around it was like these giant colorful figures and letters were a parade in my honor, celebratory, silently cheering for me to move forward. …at the time, I didn’t know forward toward what, but once I got to the city, I found out.
I commuted on the train to Grand Central Station, as I had done for weeks prior, and walked up Lexington Avenue on the path to my therapist’s office. I stopped in the Starbucks on 40th & Lex, ordered my coffee drink, and while waiting for it at the pick up counter, checked my Hinge app.
A cute guy named Tom wanted to match with me, so I accepted. When I did, the app revealed that his full name was Tom Rowinski. Hmmm…Tom Rowinski…where do I know that name Rowinski…?…?…
I tilted my head to the right and came to the gradual, slow realization of who he was…ohhhhhhh… little Thomas Rowinksi from the neighborhood! …who went to my grammar school! …his sister’s name was Julia! …his mom used to work in the Library! Soooo strange! This is our first exchange over the app:
To be honest, I kept picturing the little boy version of how I remembered him growing up. It made it weird thinking of dating him. Then he asked me something like: “Would it be weird if we went on a date because we knew of each other as kids?” (Right from the very start we were in sync.) I remember laughing to my therapist telling him that this kid from my elementary school messaged me…the thought of us being together was ridiculous. Even still, I replied back to him something like, “I’ll date you! Why not? It’s 2019!” I was up for anything.
After my therapy session, I walked around the city a bit to window shop. While scooting clothes on hangers in one store, my sister called and I told her about Tom Rowinski from the neighborhood hitting me up on Hinge, and she scoffed. Her advice to me was kindly decline. She jokes now that it was good thing I didn’t listen to her.
Tom and I chatted through the evening, I made my way home to my apartment, and got myself ready to dance. On that particular night, there was this Latin Dance Masquerade Ball social on Long Island that I had planned to attend. I was going to drive myself, dance with whoever was there, and have a good time until I wanted to come home. That’s exactly what I did.
On an impulse I invited him to join me. On an impulse he almost met me there! But - in the end - he didn’t come, and I stuck to the plan. We both decided we would go on an official dinner date that Monday. So that Monday it was.
My night consisted of the image above. This dance party - not planned for us in the least (DUH), but with the energy around the knowing celebration of the start of us. Perhaps that’s not true, but this is my story of our story, and I say it is.
ME ASKING HIM FOR WHAT HE REMEMBERS FROM THAT DAY: “I remember your pictures and you were very pretty. You had one picture with a black shirt doing this [makes motion] and one with a leopard shirt doing your hair. That’s what I remember. I don’t remember if I knew who you were or not.”
Ladies and gentlemen, MY MAN. [insert laughing emoji here]
