As a few of you know, I have made the move from Southeast Texas to upstate New York. My wife and I made this move on a Greyhound bus. We dropped everything: our lives, our family, and most of our material and disposable belongings. We’ve made this choice to better our lives in a place where the weather is more tolerable than that of the “bayou”. Time will only tell whether this was a good choice for us.

Tara and I have made many life changes in the eight months we have been together. We had been friends and co-workers for nearly three years. We began dating, over an innocent game of miniature golf. We later went to watch TV at her house, I asked to kiss her, and the rest is history. This was August 7, 2008.

We then moved in together on September 15, 2008. It was a small townhouse in North Sacramento, California. Things were awesome. We spent nearly every disposable minute together, and there seemed only one thing left to do.

It was October 30, 2008. We had walked down to the management office of our complex, to speak to the manager about a possible move we had to make. While waiting outside of the office, to see the manager, I looked at Tara and said, “let’s go get married.” She said, “doesn’t anyone use a ring anymore?” She then asked when we were to go. I told her that we should go now. Looking at the clock, I noticed it was about 2 pm. We decided that the next day would be a better idea. We later went to get something to eat, and it was then that I realized what the next day was.

Halloween! Yes, like a couple of creepy gothic kids, we were married on Halloween. We woke early that morning. We both asked each other if we wanted to get married this morning. Upon reaching the quickest consensus in national history, we called our witnesses and headed for Orangevale. Within an hour and change we were married. This was not the end of our insanity.

Before we were dating, Tara had told me that she may be leaving to Texas, to be with her family. She had a sister and aunt that lived there. Her mother was also thinking of going to Texas because of Tara’s sister. When Tara had told me of this, I asked her if she needed a co-pilot. She kind of giggled and said she didn’t know if she was going.

Fast-forward to the time around our wedding day. I have quit my job, we are packing our apartment, and are in discussions with our apartment management to quit our lease and sell off our belongings. November 5th, we are leaving our townhouse to stay with her mother. November 15th, we are heading out in a caravan, headed towards The Woodlands, Texas. November 19th, we arrive in The Woodlands. We spend almost for months in misery: between our jobs, money issues, and family problems. It was then that I contacted my sister, Michelle, about a possible way out.

March 8th, we pack what we can into: four large duffle bags, a backpack, and laptop bag. At 7 pm we climbed aboard a Greyhound bus and Headed towards Dallas. In Dallas, we saw our last Carl’s JR. Thirty-nine hours (and eleven stops) later, we were in Utica New York, on a car ride to our new home in Rome, New York.

It is now April 10th. We have been here a month, and I can’t really think of a time I have been happier: besides the month and a half Tara and I had the townhouse. In the last eight months, Tara and I have: dated, moved in together, married, moved halfway across the country, moved across the other half. Eleven states and nearly four thousand miles, in four months.

In all of this craziness, I can’t think of another human I would be willing to share this life with. My co-conspirator has been both the fuel for my flames and the rock I need to lean on. There are no words in the English language for my to use to explain my emotions towards this woman. The closest I can come up with is: te amo.