This is the true story of first love, of meeting on the school bus at the age of 14, of going steady and holding hands, of proms and pep assemblies, of the B dinner for two and a movie at the old theater. It's the story of two kids who felt older than their years, who came together like perfect connecting puzzle pieces, who knew that to say yes to this big adventure was a forever kind of deal.
I can remember in our early dating life, trying to picture us together at our 20th reunion, and I could not see it. Not because we weren't digging each other, but because we were still getting to know each other. I can pinpoint the exact moment the scale tipped to the heavier, better, side of knowing.
It was the 4th of July, and my guy showed up at my door for our date at the parade and fireworks later, with an eye patch and his Mom. His eye was scratched, he couldn't drive, and to keep our date, his Mom was our chauffeur. Being all of 16 going on 17, I should have died of mortification.
Instead, I took his hand happily, proudly.
Later as I sat with his Mom on a blanket and watched him light off fireworks (he was being careful he said, but considering he had only one eye and it was dark, I was worried) I felt a surety, a wholeness, a sense of belonging when I looked at him (eye patch and all) and I knew.
I knew then, and 21 years later, I still know.
He is the the other half of me, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish. He is mine and I am his.
And for everyone who said we were too young (and considering that we were 18, that was almost everyone) I say, "Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries."
True love watches a guys favorite movie hundreds of times and even after that many viewings, can't stop laughing when he quotes from it. 21 years and counting!
This post inspired by TangledLou and all the somethings she's up to!