So, today on my way into work I was really missing K. A song came on the radio that was very nostalgic for me, although I'm not really sure why. It's not a song that sticks in my head as being attached to any specific instance in our time together. It got me to thinking, and I decided that (possibly with a few 'interruptions') I wanted to spend my next 12 posts telling a story from each year K and I have been together. I think it will be difficult to pick just 1, and some of them will need at least a little background, so bear with me if I get sidetracked!
So, year 1, the year 2000, the year we met.
I could go obvious and go with the story of how we met, but I'm not going to.
I was 19 when we met. I turned 20 when I was still trying to fight off his advances and charming, boyish good looks. I think I was afraid of how deeply I felt for him so quickly, and with my childhood weighing me down, I fought him every step of the way. When we met I had already been out on my own for almost 2 years. During that 2 years I had spent some time living with a guy that had bled me dry.
So, A few months after K and I met I had ended up moving back in with my parents to get myself back on my feet. By this time K and I were dating, but our schedules were all over the board. He worked nights, went to school during the day and slept in the evenings. I worked days, went to school in the evening, and slept at night. Yeah, it was crazy.
So, the story. It was about a month after I moved back in with my parents, and K was coming over every opportunity he had. It was summertime, so we were both in school but taking less classes.
Quick side note - it will help the story, I promise. I am the baby of the family, and the only girl.
OK, back on track. So, we were at my parents one night and having dinner with them. It was a pretty quiet night, uneventful. K and I were flirting under the table, hoping no one would notice. Playing footsie and all that :-) After dinner my Dad grabbed K and pressed something into his hand. 'I wanted to give this to you so that you could let yourself in the house.' That was all he said, and then walked away. K opened his hand and we both looked down to find a house key.
Yep, my dad gave his only daughters boyfriend a house key. Mind you, we'd only been dating a little while. Wow.
Years later my mom admitted that she didn't even know dad was planning on doing this, but she also admitted to being OK with it.
Fast forward to school starting again. K had transferred to one of the local Universities and had chosen to live on campus (these decisions made before we met and started dating). This school was well known for its parties and promiscuity. I cried so hard when I dropped him off and helped him move in his stuff. I was so young and naive, and had finally given my heart to this man, and here I was, scared to death that he would get involved in all this and toss me to the curb.
4 months later he got out of his 'contract' to live on campus and we moved in together.
The year we got married, he admitted that that first summer, I was only supposed to be a 'summer fling' while he prepared to go to the University. Ha. I showed him!!!