Five years ago today (9/12/2008), my husband and I went on our first date. We went to Applebee’s near campus, when parking he accidentally put the car in neutral instead of park, and I ordered a salad… because I’m a girl. (I ordered a burger and fries our second date, don’t worry.) We kissed on the first date in the library on campus. (I don’t think Dad knew that. Sorry.) I came home that night and told my roommate I was going to marry him, she laughed at me, but I’m glad to know I was right.
We went out three days in a row. Now, we were 18, college freshman, and broke, so our dates mostly consisted of taking long walks on the greenway in Murfreesboro. On September 15, 2008, Stephen asked me to be his girlfriend. I was already smitten with him. I laugh when people ask me for relationship advice— Stephen was my first boyfriend.
I wouldn’t say that our relationship is always easy, but it’s definitely natural. Stephen is my best friend. I’m more myself with him than I am with anyone else. Stephen knows my darkest secrets, my biggest insecurities, my deepest fears. He knows what to say to get under my skin, to make me fall on the floor laughing, to make me cuddle up next to him.
Five years. 1826 days. I wouldn’t trade a single one.
Thanks for asking me out on that first date, for the second date, and the many, many dates after that. Thanks for kissing me in the library, because seriously, can a book nerd have a better place for a first kiss? Thanks for not leaving when you could have, for sticking by my side, for asking me to marry you, for supporting all my dreams, for loving me, for marrying me. I couldn’t ask for anyone better.