Eleven Years

Eleven years ago today...

A very handsome, curly headed 19-year-old boy knocked on my apartment door.

I was expecting him. See, earlier that day we had talked about "needing to talk." Not just any talk - the DTR {Defining of The Relationship}.

We had been on a few dates and had been shamelessly "fake dating" for MONTHS before that.

Fake dating (as defined by Lydia): Hanging out a lot, always in groups, and chatting about anything and everything while obviously having a possible romantic interest in one another.  Fake dating also entails being absolutely terrified to make a move that would change the label of said relationship from "friend" to "dating" practicing self-discipline and wisdom in truly taking a step back and prayerfully considering whether this is a person you could marry.

Aside: Fake dating is what I, Ladies and Gents, will encourage my girls to do. 

That curly-headed, clean-shaven fella walked into my apartment.

We sat down and talked...just like we always had. It was EASY to talk because we had been friends for a while. 

Nothing too romantic or soppy was said. That's not our style.

And I won't share any particulars because they are pieces of sweetness that I have treasured in my heart for the last eleven beautiful years.

But I will divulge that the conversation ended with

"I want to pursue this."
"I would like that."

It's burned into my memory and forever will be. It was the moment my husband chose ME. It is the moment he chose to pursue ME...and he didn't have to do anything, but be wise enough to take his time in asking and brave enough to ask when he felt he needed to. {Go'head Hubs} 

Best. Gift. Ever. 

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