I’m going to warn you now: this post is about love. Sappy, romantic, sickly sweet love. It is Andrew and my 5 and a half year anniversary today, and maybe it seems silly to others that I count every month. But I really do cherish every day I spend with Andrew. Since the day we’ve met, my life has never been the same.
I’ve always been a romantic, for as long as I can personally remember. My Barbies were always having breathtaking love affairs and I remember watching Dawson’s Creek and dreaming of finding a love as swoon-worthy as Joey and Pacey. You had Buffy and Angel, Willow and Oz, and Nancy and Ned. So I could only hope that someday I would find a boy that made me feel like a princess. And like any princess, it wasn’t without toads. But something happened the year I turned seventeen… something which changed everything I thought I knew. Okay, so that sounds totally cheesy. And maybe it is the cliche. But, honestly, it’s true.
Andrew and I met in the aftermath of Hurricane Juan, before the lights had even come back on. Okay, he doesn’t remember that. But of course, I do. I also remember the conversation that occurred later when I was talking to a friend of mine about having to live in the shadow of my best friend, and he told me: “well, I think you’re better looking. And so does Andrew.” To which I immediately asked, “oh yeah, how old is he?” and after hearing his reply–“14.”–I immediately responded “Haha. Maybe in a couple years.”
And then we started talking, and it was like everything I ever wanted to feel around someone had come true. It literally was like we had known each other forever (and here comes the cliches again). And, as I talked to him, I realized that… shock of all shocks… I really liked him. For the first time in a very long while I felt comfortable and safe talking to someone, and I liked him. And so we talked. And we talked. And we came up with our own island. And we talked some more.
And now here we are, five and a half years later, and I’m just as smitten with him as the day I met him. I never thought I would find that someone I wanted to grow old with at seventeen. I never thought I would fall for someone younger than me. But none of that stuff matters. All that matters if that I have found the boy I want to be with. And I absolutely adore the feeling of waking up beside him. Of looking into his eyes. Of curling up on the couch and laughing and tickling and playing video games.
To the boy who stole my heart:
I love you always.