In college I was dating this boy named Dan. Well not really dating, more like I was infatuated with making him my boyfriend after getting my heartbroken. Dan and I hung out everyday and "studied." We went to the coffee shop, smoked cigs, and I tried my damnedest to make him laugh and kiss me.
He had just gotten out of a relationship too and what we had in common were our tragically shattered hearts. Our friendship/relationship/codependence had us doing things like couples do but without the intimacy. One night we were headed out on a pseudo date when my doorbell rang. Imagine my surprise when my highschool boyfriend (the Chef) and my best friend (also his best friend) stood before me. My roomate had met my best friend a few weeks before and they had arranged a night to hang out. She forgot to tell me that he was coming and he forget to tell her that he was bringing my ex.
To say that it was awkward is the understatement of the year.
The Chef and I had always stayed in touch after highschool and had recently started up our friendship. We were phone buddies and when he was in town sometimes we would hang out. When I was sad about my broken I would call him. He was my rock.
I always knew how the Chef felt about me even all those years after we broke up and as Dan and I left my house quickly to go to the play I turned to him and said "I'm probably going to marry that guy."
Our friendship/relationship/codependence ended that night.
A year later I moved to New York City to live with him as his roomate. A year after that we had a baby. A year after that we got married. And seven years after that we are here, back home in Cleveland following our dreams, enjoying our family, and celebrating a love that I think we both always knew we had.
Happy Anniversary baby.
This one's for you.