I knew my husband for about 3 years as "that really shy person." He hung around in the same group as me, went to the same parties and everything. And aside from being cripplingly shy, he was never able to speak directly to me or look me in the eyes...he could talk to some of the other girls I hung out with, but not me. And I always thought he was a little creepy. Big huge tall guy, never said a word, ignored me like I had the fucking plauge.
So fast forward 3 years...I had just broken up with my now-ex-husband, who had been my first lover and a complete disappointment in the sack, and I wanted to get laid. Wicked bad. I just wanted to fuck, man -- just find myself a booty call to keep around for getting my rocks off, byebye, don't hang around. Now, I knew that Sean (my present husband) would be pretty easy to get in the sack, because he had that "desperate guy" air about him...that "please fuck me because I haven't fucking seen pussy since I was BORN" kind of thing...so I called him up and asked him out, and he said yes. I know I said I thought he was a little creepy, but he's physically my type, and at that point I was like, fuck, I can deal with a little creepiness as long as he'll fuck me till I can't walk.
He comes over to my place, I ask him if he wants to fuck -- no niceities, just "Wanna fuck?" -- and he coughed and choked and stuttered out yes. He was great, no lie...I was happy, I'd been well-fucked, and I was about to ask him to leave when he said he had something to confess. He told me that the reason he'd never spoken to me very much or anything was that he'd been head-over-heels in love with me since the day he met me, and he was afraid I would find out...but now that we'd slept together, he just needed to tell me.
Now, this *could* have been a line...but I could tell, just looking into his eyes, that it wasn't. This guy was into me something fierce. And it...fuck, I don't know, *melted* that hard-as-nails part of me that wanted to kick him to the curb now that I'd gotten what I wanted. So we started dating.
And it was about 2 weeks later when I looked at him and realized...I was falling in love with him. It wasn't just about fucking anymore, I was falling in love with this guy, that he could potentially be the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
In June, that'll be 8 years ago that we started dating. He's my best friend, my partner, my everything, in so many ways. There has never been a time since we started a relationship that I haven't liked him...and to me, that's important. You can love someone even though you don't really *like* who they are. and I like him. He's keen.
So I can't really pinpoint when that "moment" was, with him, or with my girlfriend, either. For me it's a long, slow, easy movement toward realizing that this person is an integral part of my life and my happiness.