---

Brett and Jenny’s first date was at the Brevard Zoo, the zipline course to be exact. An easy, fun adventure for Brett. Nothing short of an Everest trek for Jenny. She was, however, the one to suggest it thanks to her friend Krista. In fact, it was while over Krista’s house that Jenny revealed to a group of friends her recent communication with Brett. They encouraged her to keep communicating with him.

She intended to, until Brett responded to one of her messages without asking a follow-up question.

Gasp.

It was only two days into their communication. Jenny (remember, she was quite jaded by the whole online dating thing) took his close-handed answer as her sign to cease communication. She put down her phone. Ain’t nobody got time for that, she thought, and left it at that.

But then Brett did the unthinkable. He double-texted!

With happy surprise (hmm…maybe this guy is something something), she happily replied to his request to meet.

A gentleman in every way, Brett paid for Jenny, was conscientious of her safety and speed while on the rope’s course and had remarkably strong hands. He chatted easily with the people before and behind them while Jenny focused every ounce of her energy into putting one foot in front of the other, once asking Brett, “Is it important to you that your S/O be able to do stuff like this?”

Seeing she was NOT in her element, Brett graciously replied, “As long as she’s willing to try, I’ll be a happy man.”

Perhaps that was the moment Jenny subconsciously began to get on board with the idea of partnering with an athletic, easy-going, adventurous individual such as Brett, but they still had a ways to go.

He was kind…so kind that Jenny wasn’t really sure if he liked her or was just being, well, kind. But when she made moves to leave after successfully completing the ropes course (she’d had enough adventure for one day and turned down his invitation to visit the zoo next door), Brett asked her to lunch. Surprised, she accepted.

They sat face to face in a booth. On the ropes course, they were one in front of the other and conversation was sparse and sporadic. Here, they could actually talk, and they both liked what they heard.

Brett shared about his missions background, and Jenny gladly listened while shoving Chick-fil-A nuggies in her mouth.

Outside, Jenny got her first Brett hug. They were both gross and sweaty, but Brett didn’t seem to care. Jenny did. Even so, he was the first FIRST date she thought she’d like to see again, waking up the next morning and shocking her mother with these four words, “I remember his face.”

Also, weirdly, he smelled really good even after sweating. Curiouser and curiouser.

Brett opened the car door of Jenny’s CR-V and waited while she settled herself in the front seat. She cranked the air conditioner and said good-bye again, but Brett still stood with the door open, one hand resting on the door frame. He squinted in the sun, then back at her. He seemed to be deciding something. He moved to shut the door, then doubled-back.

“One last thing,” he said. “Do you like musicals?”

Jenny looked at him strangely. “Yes.”

Brett’s face instantly lit up. “Really?! That’s great! I love musicals!”

“Oh. Good.” she said, but in her head, it was not good at all.

As their relationship progressed, Brett’s exuberant inclusion of musicals, and music in general, into his daily life became a point of tension, unbeknownst to Brett. He talked about musicals— which were new, which he’d like to see on Broadway. He shared songs he liked, and lived for car karaoke sessions. He listened to music at loud volumes when they drove together, and displayed extremely well-organized and extensive music playlists on his Spotify. Later, when he began visiting and staying over in Vero Beach, Jenny would listened in the kitchen while music blasted from the bathroom. Brett goes into full performance mode during his showers. And though Jenny would share memories of listening to The Music Man on long roadtrips from New Jersey to Florida and singing “You Can’t Get A Man With a Gun” in a 6th grade program, listening obsessively to Celine Dion or seeing Beauty and the Beast on Broadway when she was in grade school, in contrast to Brett, Jenny usually preferred to drive in silence (and turned down the music in his car when they drove together), listening to the same 3-5 songs over and over again. And it had been quite a while since she’d belted out a tune to the tiles.

The couple joke that the new bride will have to walk around the house wearing noise cancelling headphones once they move in together, and sound ordinances enforced. Jokes aside, Jenny says she is grateful for this facet of her new husband. It’s just that his joy in music is a confrontation to her own bitterness.

Her bitterness towards music and musical theatre was, in fact, due to a series of disappointments and poor choices. She had participated in musicals all through grade school, with aspirations to make a career of singing. At 18, however, that dream was disrupted by a psychosomatic vocal tension, and a sudden dispassionate view of all music. She had lost mostly all desire to sing. “A disappointed hope makes the heart sick.” Towards musicals and worship music specifically, she took out her hurt. They represented, to her, an idealistic lie.

It’s different for Brett. “It’s a way to express emotions you wouldn’t normally speak aloud. It has a feel good factor, and then sometimes a hurts-so-good factor.”

Brett understands that music is more than something to be studied and nitpicked and learned. Musicals, for him, aren’t something to begrudge as “fake”, “idealistic”, or “cheesy”; they’re something to be felt. He understands what it is to embody the passionate melodrama of Hades and Persephone, the over-the-top fun and silliness of Hairspray, the intensity of Alexander Hamilton. He may not have performed in musicals; soccer always came first, but he dabbled. He even once lip-synced “Stand Out” for a talent show. He has no shame in his worship, either, freely singing along wherever he is.

His heart is open to both feel all the things and to pour out; he allows himself to be vulnerable be that in happiness or gut-wrenching sorrow. While dating, Jenny didn’t know what to make of the way he freely expressed himself, particularly his joy. He wasn’t afraid to be silly or put himself in the way of embarrassment, to smile when he was excited or belt out “Sante Fe” from the Newsies. His love for life was apparent; he wore it on his sleeve, wrote it down in his letters and shared it with every action and in every note he chose to play over the speakers.

To heal her broken relationship with music, Jenny had always thought she needed to marry someone who played the piano or the guitar, some one who could mix music or had some experience in the music industry or broadway. She thought she would need someone who could support and help me with the technical aspects of restoring any vocal acumen. And while Brett absolutely can sing, it’s his sheer joy and heart for music that has brought the most healing. His attitude towards music and musicals has helped his new bride begin to heal and make peace with her decisions and disappointments, dissolving her bitterness and the unrealistic expectations she set for herself to simple enjoy it.

She’s making progress. Last Christmas, the couple received a karaoke machine from Brett’s dad; karaoke nights are becoming a regular occurrence.

And well, pay attention to the cake cutting.

***

Authors Note: Thank you for reading this article and we hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to hold down those little clapping hands till they hit 50 and leave your thoughts or links to articles you’ve written or think might be of interest. If you’d like to see more great writing, check out similar articles below.