A Love Story: Part 1

I can remember getting to know, and starting to date the man who would become my husband like it was yesterday.  I remember so many seemingly insignificant details with ease.  As much as it pains me to say it, I know that won't always be the case.

Our "dating anniversary" just passed at the end of January - marking 9 faithful years together and our 6th wedding anniversary is approaching in May.  As we slowly build our lifetime of memories together, the older ones grow more faint and less familiar.  I love nostalgia and all that comes with it, but I haven't kept a regular diary since I was 12 years old.  Even then, I'm pretty sure I was terrible at journaling the undoubtedly riveting events of my tween years. 

I do wish that I had kept a diary during the first few months of the fledgling relationship that would grow to last a a lifetime.  The thoughts, confidences, doubts and feelings I experienced during that time of my life are unlikely to be paralleled by anything that the rest of my lifetime has in store.  As much as I long to re-live those beginning months through the words of my younger self, I also appreciate the perspective I now have, knowing how one tiny chapter of our story ends.  So begins my retroactive diary...

The first time I saw Aaron was in a 9th grade algebra class at the high school we both attended.  One of my best friends was also in my class (probably the best thing to happen to a freshmen) so I was totally off of the hook for having to speak to or make friends with anyone else in class.  Aaron was a new kid.  I certainly didn't recognize him like I did my other classmates - most of whom I'd attended school with since kindergarten.

He was cute; hair bleached blonde (the popular thing to do at the time) and growing out to his natural color, wearing ripped jeans and an American Eagle t-shirt.  To be honest, I don't know that I can accurately recollect exactly what he was wearing on the first day of school, but the above description was what he wore most days and has become part of my first memories of him

I know what I was wearing on the first day of school!  My dad and I right before he chauffeured my three best friends and I to our first day as high school students.

Aaron and I didn't really talk to each other at all for the duration of that algebra class.  Remember that best friend I mentioned?  We did more than enough talking for the whole class.

One of the only actual, succinct memories I have of Aaron from that time, was during a classroom exercise that involved solving equations on the board, in front of the class.  I was /am/ always will be horrifically terrible at math and Aaron was/ is/ always will be a math whiz.  So there we were at the board trying to solve our equations.  Aaron working away and me just standing there; unable to figure out my first step.  For some reason, I looked in his direction and my glance caught his.  The look on my face must have been as pathetic and helpless as I felt, because he quickly and quietly told me where I should start.  In high school embarrassment terms, he basically saved my life. 

I look back on that snippet of a memory very fondly because it so accurately portrays part of the roll that Aaron still plays in my life.  I'm a detail person.  I often get overwhelmed by the "big picture" despite my penchant for (and love of)  planning ahead.  I get so caught up in knowing where I want to end up, that I can't see where to start.

Aaron is often the voice that guides and reassures me when I'm standing in front a problem I can't seem to start solving.  A nudge, a trick, a tip, a thought to get me started on the path to a solution is usually all it takes.  I'm stubborn - like a mouthy jackass hell bent on figuring it out on my own.  A man that would step in and handle it for me would never work in my world, and he knows that.  Seemingly, he always has.

Reason # 37 that I love him.

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