17 years ago, this guy took me on our first date. 17 years. We were such babies.
He was a full time drafter, part time college student, wanna be rebel.
I was a full time college student, part time lifeguard/swim instructor, full out rebel (without a good cause).
I can still remember it like it was yesterday. We met online and chatted for a month because I was already dating someone else. The day we broke up, Bryan asked me out. I met him at his apartment (just for the record, I will lock my daughter up if she ever meets a guy for the first time at his house) and then he drove me to dinner. I still remember my jaw about hitting the floor because he opened the truck door for me. None of the other guys I had ever dated had ever even attempted to do that. I guess that’s what I get for dating the misfits. We went to Applebee’s (hey, small town, not many great options) and had a great time. Conversation was easy and I didn’t feel the need to impress him. He was just…real.
After dinner, he took me back to my car and even opened the door for me there. We stood there in the parking lot for a long time, still talking, not wanting the date to end. Before we parted ways, he asked if he could kiss me. This right here proved that he does have a romantic bone in his body, even if he swears he doesn’t.
He tells me that for him it was love at first sight, for me, it was in that moment he asked to kiss me. Crazy, yes, but that has pretty much been the mantra for our lives since. Crazy in love, sometimes to a fault but crazy devoted as well.
There is no one I’d rather do this crazy life with than him.