Thank God for lame parties

Last Thursday was me and David’s anniversary, the anniversary of when we started dating and of when we got married but that all pales in comparison to how it all began.

Once upon a time about six and a half years ago my friend Drew came into the mediocre diner where I worked and invited my friend Abby and I to a party he was having that night.  Drew was in college so this was a college party; I was in high school so by virtue of being invited to college parties I was not only totally awesome but also a huge badass.

It was a pretty lame party, the same lame stuff that goes on at every party… that is until everyone sat down in a circle to play a drinking game.

Suddenly, out of the crowd came a boy I hadn’t seen and took his place in the circle directly across from me.  My heart stopped for a second… this wasn’t just any boy, this boy was GORGEOUS.  And when I say gorgeous I mean ‘skipping breaths-can’t take my eyes off him-if this was an old movie I would faint’ gorgeous.  He had shoulder length red hair, eyes the color of the sky before it storms, and the aura that fell somewhere between the coolest kid in school and the buddha.  And did I mention he was gorgeous?

I couldn’t pay attention to the game because I was too busy trying to find the appropriate amount to look at him… I didn’t want to stare because then he would recognize me for the lame totally-crushing-on-him kid that I was but I didn’t want to never look at him because then it would seem like I didn’t like him at all.

You wouldn’t believe how complicated something like figuring out how often you’re suppose to look at a person can be.

Every time I would look over at him though he would already be looking at me and instead of awkwardly looking away pretending he hadn’t been staring like I would have done he would hold my gaze and smile at me.  He was quiet, the whole game I never heard him talk, but every time I would look at him it would be the same look… the same smile….

I lay awake that night thinking about the mysterious gorgeous redhead and the next day went back over to Drew’s apartment with some half baked excuse for doing so I’m sure but really it was to ask who that guy was.  When I asked Drew he rolled his eyes and sighed “Jeeze, get a room you two.” and then added after I gave him a quizzical look “After the party last night David kept bugging me ‘Who was the really pretty girl with the  curly black hair?  Who was that girl?'”   I smiled.  David.  His name was David.  And apparently he thought I was pretty.

That love at first sight moment gave way to a madly in love romance with no doubt that we were meant to be together on either end.  Eventually there was a night of getting our dance on at a club till the wee hours when he officially asked me out, a million late nights watching documentaries and indie films, so many more mediocre parties where we drank too much and did ridiculous things that I probably shouldn’t recount in detail here incase our kids read it someday, many more instances of us not paying attention to the game at hand because we were busy staring at each other… eventually a move across the country to start a new adventure, a wedding, making some tiny people….

And here we are, more than six years later.  I’m sitting here recounting the events of a lame party on my lame blog and he’s researching computer routers… but even now when I look up at him a lot of the time he’s already looking at me (and he’s still totally gorgeous).  Thank God for lame parties.

[I was looking for some old pictures of young us to add to this story just now and came across one that is actually from another lame party in the album of a friend from college.  I wouldn’t usually throw this out for the whole world to see but in this instance it’s too fitting and I can’t resist.]

Yes… we really were this classy.

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