A whole year can pass you by without even realizing it. This upcoming Sunday will be my one-year anniversary with my boyfriend. It seems like time has traveled within a snap of the fingers. I remember every moment of the beginning of our relationship as if it just happened.
I met him through a friend. He’s older, and lives two hours away. It started by texting until he said he wanted to come and see me, to take me on a date. I was totally exhilarated and absolutely terrified. I’d never been on a real date before. In high school, guys were never really interested in me. Sure I was pretty, but I was never considered “hot” so I got overlooked. High school boys prefer to see your physical beauty as opposed to what’s actually in your brain.
The day that he was coming to meet me in person I was a trembling ball of nerves. It seemed so impossible to believe that a real life guy wanted to go out with me. But the moment he pulled up in front of the dorm I knew he was special. So handsome, with dark hair and dark eyes. He gave me a hug and came upstairs.
Literally all we did for the first nine or so minutes was sit in total silence. I was perched on my desk chair and he was sat on my bed. Every now and then we’d look at each other and blush and laugh nervously. But it made me feel a little bit better to know this was just as awkward and nerve-wracking to him as it was to me.
Our first date was a double date so it helped ease the tension a little bit. We went to this sweet little diner downtown that I’ve dubbed as our spot. Every time we go in I see the table we were at and I smile to remember how much fun it was that day.
He was sweet and funny. I laughed so much my belly hurt after a while. I learned some of his little quirks, like how he hates lettuce and tomato on a burger and shares an obsession with “Family Guy” like me. And like an absolute gentleman, he paid the bill, refusing to let me even try to talk about splitting.
We went back to the dorm and just cuddled for a while. I felt warm and safe, like this was where I was meant to be. He was special to me. I knew I was special to him too when we said goodbye the next day. He held me tight and promised he’d come back soon.
The next week, Sept. 30, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes.
He was the one who said “I love you” first. Being my first relationship I was nervous to say it back at first. I was afraid I’d say it and he’d get tired of driving two hours to see me, or wouldn’t believe me. But I knew he was sincere the third time he told me.
I was upset one night about something. He held me and let me cry into his shoulder like a baby. Looking back now I must’ve looked like an absolute mess, red eyes and runny nose. I was mortified later that I let him see me like that. During the first month or so of dating you try to preserve this idea that you look hot 24/7 regardless of situations. But we finally hit the part where I looked like a mess and totally didn’t care.
When I finally looked up I saw that he was crying too. He was so sad to see me like that he was crying too. I wiped his eyes and kissed him. He hugged me and told me again that he loved me.
In that moment I knew I loved him too. I knew he would do anything for me, and that I would do anything for him. He wouldn’t drive two hours to see me if he didn’t think I was worth it. He treated me like a queen, and he made me feel special. He made me feel beautiful when I didn’t see it myself. So I finally said it back. He hugged me tighter and calmed me down the way that sometimes only he can.
Now we’re so close to being a year strong. I still love him as much as I did that night when I first told him. He has made my life brighter since he came into it. He’s my best friend, my confident, my shoulder to cry on and my jokester. He takes me as I am, and accepts my many faults and quirks. He gives the best advice and has the answers when I don’t. He takes care of me and I him.
I love you, my amazing boyfriend. Happy anniversary, and here’s to many more together.