Caution: This post is sappy, cheesy, and totally gag-inducing for those who don’t enjoy hearing about the love lives of other people. You have been warned!
One day in Ms. Czajkiewicz’s (I will never forget how to spell her name) seventh grade science class, a friend of mine pointed out a boy she thought was cute. He was sitting two rows in front of us, on the other side of the classroom. I knew his name and the back of his head, but that was about all – he was shy and didn’t talk much in class.
Two years later, it was freshman year of high school and everybody was in a tizzy over who was going homecoming with whom. Boys were buying flowers, leaving notes in girls’ classrooms and girls were strategically planning their dresses, dates, and dinner reservations. Two different friends were discussing which one of them would go to homecoming with the shy, blonde boy. One of them eventually mustered the courage and asked him to go. We all went in a group of twenty-something and had a massive pasta dinner at Buca di Beppo’s before the dance.
After freshman year, I got to know the boy a little better. We had the same friends and were always at somebody’s house together. He ran cross-country the same seasons I played volleyball so we would hang out by the locker rooms before practices. As a young idealist who wanted to save the world, I convinced him and some of our other friends to join a school group called Creating a World of Difference. We would go on retreats and strategize how we were going to eliminate racism, sexism, and all the other ‘ism’s.
Sophomore year flew by and before I knew it, I was a junior in high school, an upperclassman with the stress of college applications looming near. Sharing AP classes, the boy and I spent many a late night with our friend Stephen reviewing US History flash cards. And by that, I mean I spent many a late night reviewing US History flash cards, while they played soccer in the downstairs playroom.
At this point, my relationship with this blonde boy had developed from a mere curiosity, to friendship, to a full-blown crush. As passive-aggressive high school girls do, I kept it a secret. I helped him ask other girls to homecoming and played the part of the best friend. It wasn’t until a snow day (remember those?) our junior year after he finally caught on that he told me the feeling was mutual and made it official.
I would say from that point on we were inseparable, but the truth is that we had been inseparable long before January 11, 2007.
Before college, we sat down and talked about whether we should stay together or see other people. I cried, he panicked, but we decided to stick with it and see what college at the University of Washington would bring.
Freshman year and dorm life…
…fast forwarded to the day our senior year when I decided to leave for Italy. He said we would make it work. And we did. We Skyped, he came to visit me halfway through my stay in Rome, and we enjoyed every single minute of it.
When it came time for college graduation, I surprised him by flying out to Seattle.
Since arriving in Washington, it has been one adventure:
And there’s nobody else in the world with whom I would rather be adventuring. Happy sixth anniversary, Stef!