How We Met

It all began at a Super Bowl Party seven years ago. Suave, crazy-haired Brian sat down next to me and told me how he felt. He said that he had had a crush on me since I was in the sixth grade. I made a music video for my choir class (everyone had to) to the song "Wishin' and Hopin' " from , and Brian told me that when he saw that video he just couldn't stop thinking about me. We were friends before this, and it must be noted that he got my seventh grade vote for student body president because I thought he was cute. The feeling was mutual. For those of you who don't know Brian at all, he is a bit of a jokester (those of you who know both of us, however, know that I am funnier), and when he told me that he liked me, like really liked me, I thought he was just kidding around. My heart raced when it became apparent that he was serious. He drove me home that night to "You Look Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton. I gave him wrong directions for about 15 minutes. Every time he got close to my house, I told him to keep going. . . it was further down the road. . . whatever I could do to make the night last longer.
Only a few weeks later, Brian and I kissed for the first time. He didn't want to kiss me so soon, but the night was dark, the stars were bright--I grabbed him and made the first move. When he asked me to actually be his girlfriend, he tied a tie over my eyes and drove me around in his dad's old Grand Jeep Cherokee. We ended up in the empty field behind our church. He had prepared a whole picnic with peeled apples (I'm allergic to the skins), pudding packs, heart-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and cupcakes that read "Will you be my girlfriend?" For hours, we sat on the blanket and listened to his specially made CD. As the sun went down and the stars came up, we picked out shapes in the sky and didn't even notice that the music had died. But the music didn't just die on its own; the music had killed the car. Our date ended with a stroll up the street to the gas station. Neither of us had cell phones, the church was locked, and the closest phone was a hike away. Brian's dad had to come pick us up at the gas station, drive us back to the church, and jump the car. It couldn't have been more perfect.
From the beginning of our relationship, Brian and I have been laughing and having fun. Not a day has gone by that I haven't made him laugh harder than he has made me laugh (well, maybe one or two days). It may seem silly, and it may sound made up, but at fifteen years old, I knew that Brian and I were supposed to be together. That feeling I got the first time he told me how he felt about me is still the same feeling I get when I see his face or hear his voice today--that giddy, excited, can't-stop-smiling feeling that only he can make me feel.