[The first touch of youth was upon you when our eyes first met]
There's a small maroon coin tin chocked full of notebook paper love notes I keep stashed under the clutter on my dresser. Last night, for the first time in a long time, I opened it up to refresh my memory about what's inside.
I don't often talk about my relationship with Phil because being mushy and sentimental about your boyfriend is a lot like talking about your pets: No one cares but you. But last night as I read those silly letters from seven years ago, when we held hands in the halls of our high school and snuck kisses behind locker doors, I giggled with amusement (at his terrible spelling) and love and all those complicated emotions you develop when you've grown up and stayed in love with your best friend for almost a decade, a fact that amazes and pleases me greatly.
Phil puts on a pretty cool act, and he always has. He was pretty smooth back in the day, even as a 17-year-old. I had a crush on him (I called him "my nose" because he had such a striking profile) and apparently he knew who I was and thought I was cute. One day, we met in the hall and Phil said, "I like that shirt." I was wearing this hideous blue button-up thing I had gotten from a dig store (I still have it, and might someday post a pic of it, as if you care). We passed each other again in the hall later and he said, "I really like that shirt." Long story short, a mutual friend asked me if Phil could call me, and a few nights later, we were planning our first date (the snack bar at Wal-Mart for cappuccinos, and later he would make me listen to his band's demo tapes). We hit it off instantly and became best friends. On our second date we decided to go steady. Over the next years we went to two proms, lots of rock shows, church, college, and elsewhere.
We have had so many beautiful moments together, and our fair share of struggles scattered in between. But they've made us stronger and more resolute. I love him more than I ever have. We have such an intense, gut-level connection that we share with no one else. He's an amazing and beautiful person -- the person with whom I will grow old and share ancient jokes and body breakdowns as well as children and frustration and drama and, most of all, my soul.
There's a small maroon coin tin chocked full of notebook paper love notes I keep stashed under the clutter on my dresser. Last night, for the first time in a long time, I opened it up to refresh my memory about what's inside.
I don't often talk about my relationship with Phil because being mushy and sentimental about your boyfriend is a lot like talking about your pets: No one cares but you. But last night as I read those silly letters from seven years ago, when we held hands in the halls of our high school and snuck kisses behind locker doors, I giggled with amusement (at his terrible spelling) and love and all those complicated emotions you develop when you've grown up and stayed in love with your best friend for almost a decade, a fact that amazes and pleases me greatly.
Phil puts on a pretty cool act, and he always has. He was pretty smooth back in the day, even as a 17-year-old. I had a crush on him (I called him "my nose" because he had such a striking profile) and apparently he knew who I was and thought I was cute. One day, we met in the hall and Phil said, "I like that shirt." I was wearing this hideous blue button-up thing I had gotten from a dig store (I still have it, and might someday post a pic of it, as if you care). We passed each other again in the hall later and he said, "I really like that shirt." Long story short, a mutual friend asked me if Phil could call me, and a few nights later, we were planning our first date (the snack bar at Wal-Mart for cappuccinos, and later he would make me listen to his band's demo tapes). We hit it off instantly and became best friends. On our second date we decided to go steady. Over the next years we went to two proms, lots of rock shows, church, college, and elsewhere.
We have had so many beautiful moments together, and our fair share of struggles scattered in between. But they've made us stronger and more resolute. I love him more than I ever have. We have such an intense, gut-level connection that we share with no one else. He's an amazing and beautiful person -- the person with whom I will grow old and share ancient jokes and body breakdowns as well as children and frustration and drama and, most of all, my soul.
2 Comments:
Do you believe in magic in a young girl's heart? How the music can free her whenever it starts?
And it's magic, if the music is groovy
It makes you feel happy like an old-time movie......Sorry, couldn't help it, had to play along. I love the stories of how couples get together. It's rather inspiring. I'm glad that you shared it. Isn't it something being in love with your very best friend in the whole world?
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