He had a limo sent to pick me up at a midtown recording studio (circa 1994). The car was to bring me to the Empire State Building where he would meet me and take me to the top of the world. I knew he was nervous, I knew it was THE night, but I played along, and took the emotional ride, silently with him. He greeted me in front of New York's most beloved skyscraper, took my hand, and escorted me into the elevator, as we rode 102 floors up. We walked out onto the observation deck and looked out over the vast city on that brisk autumn night. I secretly watched him fumble around in his pants pocket, his face pale and sweaty as he was about to ask the most important question of his life.
After an hour of taking in the awesome landscape, I felt him take my hand, only to lead me back out onto the city's bustling streets. He hailed a cab and I was swept off to another New York hot spot. As we pulled up in front of The Russian Tea Room, I gave him a smile as if to say, this is a good place to ask, but an appetizer, entree, and dessert later, his sweating hand never left his pocket, and neither did the ring.
Once again, I felt him grasp my hand and whisk me out into the cold night. As fate, (and a little planning) would have it, a horse and carriage pulled up in front of us, and before I knew it, I was snuggled under a blanket with my favorite friend, clip clopping along the peaceful paths of Central Park. I turned to him to acknowledge the unique and awesome night he planned for us, and there, in his hand, was the ring he so boldly released from the grip in his pocket. In that moment, he asked me to walk a path with him that would (unbeknownst to us) take us on the ride of our lives.
Greg Martz, can you believe we are 21 years? Thank you, my friend, for the fears you so daringly face, the authenticity of your vulnerable heart, and the strength of your groundedness. Your jokes, your songs, your dance, your ability to calm my restlessness, and your sweet, sweet love. Thank you for choosing me.