When I went to college, the only thing I was concerned about was being a new freshman. I wanted to do all of the typical, stereotypical first-year-of-college activities. My only plans were to become besties with my new roommate, meet new people, stay out late, go to frat parties, etc. What I did not plan on, of course, was meeting the love of my life when I was 18 because, let’s be honest, the last thing anyone wants to do is settle down the second they get to college. Settling down means no more strange dates with people your roommate set you up with, and no more (attempted) flirting at parties. But, when cupid strikes, the only thing you can do is give in.
Toward the end of my first semester of college, I had been hanging out with a good friend of mine for quite some time. He just so happened to be pretty close with a guy that I had my sights set on for a while. However, this guy I was so into had later started dating one of my girlfriends. Not wanting to be the homewrecker type, I left him alone, and I tried my best to keep my mind off of him for months. Sadly for them, and luckily for me, the two of them ended things when the semester was coming to a close. I didn’t plan to intrude; I merely wanted to make it clear that I was a good friend and source of comfort. I wanted to lend a helping hand while he was hurting. I had no intention of being a rebound, and I made that perfectly clear from the beginning.
However, the two of us began to spend an increasing amount of time together. Finally, just before our semester exams, we went on a real date together at the cutest little Italian restaurant. My heart was beating out of my chest all night, as I assumed that would be the night he finally asked me to be his girlfriend. But, you know what they say about people who assume… So, I was a nervous wreck for nothing. He didn’t ask me to go out with him that night. I became highly discouraged about the whole thing. I realized I made it clear that we needed to take things slow because of his recent relationship, but I couldn’t help but go over the entire night over and over again in my mind. What could I have possibly done wrong? I thought it had went very well and, typically, my anxiety took over. I no longer had control over my own thoughts about the night. In my mind, everything had gone wrong: he no longer wanted anything to do with me, and he hated our first night out.
As it turned out, my anxiety was all kinds of wrong about that night. I only knew this because, about a week later (closer to Christmas), he took me to the most beautiful park, overflowing with twinkling lights. There, he gave me a handwritten letter that had the lyrics to George Straight’s “Check Yes or No” neatly written at the bottom. It was the most magical night I had ever encountered. That night, I felt as though I was the star in one of those sweet rom-coms that are always shown on the Lifetime channel during the holidays. It was perfect. He was perfect. We were perfect.
From then on, we were inseparable. If we weren’t at home or in class, we were together. I was always in his dorm, and he was always in mine. The only problem was our upcoming winter break; that meant almost two months apart from each other. We realized it would be hard, but we didn’t know just how difficult it would be. We had just started dating, so we were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship. Being apart was not in the rule book for the honeymoon stage. But, that is how I eventually learned he was the one for me.
Being away from him tore me apart. But, that's not what made me realize how perfect he was for me. It was the little things I began to notice while we were away from each other; it was the way he said my name, the tone of his voice. It was clear, just from his voice, he was missing me just as much as I was missing him. It was the way he did everything in his power to spend time with me. Not only that, it was the way he spent that time with me. He made sure I felt special the whole time we were together, even if it was only for a few hours at a time. Then again, he always made me feel special. He still does. But it was the way he held me, too; his goodbyes. Each time we had to part, we never knew when we would see each other again, so he kissed me like it'd be the last time he ever did. He held me closer, and he held me tighter. He made me feel his love in a way that I never even imagined possible.
It was over that winter break that I knew he was my forever. He was my future.
Since then, we've only grown stronger. He has done nothing but reassure me that he is the man for me. He's constantly making me feel like I am capable of anything with him, and I truly believe that. He makes the bad good, and he makes the good even better. Whether we're out on a fancy date or we're sitting on the couch, munching on snacks, watching movies in our pajamas, he always makes me feel loved and wanted. He never doubts me, and he supports every decision I make, even if he isn't sure about it. He knows I can take on anything, and I know he'll be by my side through it all. But, most importantly, he always, always makes me feel loved, like I don't have a worry in the world. That's how I know he's the one.
