We met coming back from a math competition when I was in sixth grade, he was in seventh. I swear, I knew in that moment I would marry him one day.
He asked me told me he couldn't just be friends anymore on a Wednesday afternoon after school. I was terrified. I thought we were too young at just fourteen to end up together.
We kissed on a Monday. He said something that I still giggle about sometimes.
We fell in love at our high school, mostly in band, mostly in the drum room.
He proposed at my favorite, quiet beach. It was freezing. We watched the sunset and I thought he was going to pop the question. The perfect moment passed and I walked back down the beach absolutely crushed. Then he asked in a big, bold, romantic gesture and blew my mind.
"Yes," always.
We eloped just days after he accepted his dream job in Houston. I was done with long distance.
We had our big white wedding six months later. It was the perfect culmination of our story. We ate at Whataburger in our wedding garb and slept so damn hard, fully dressed, with flowers still in my hair. We left our dinners and a whole cheesecake in a friend's car, and held hands and talked for miles and miles across the whole county. It was a magic day.
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