our story.

I met Popeye when I was 14 years old.  I was staying the night at my cousin's house and she was telling me all about her "cute friend" that had just gotten his license.  We spent the evening in his little white Honda "carting" behind Albertsons and listening to Alanis Morrisette.  He let me borrow his Smashing Pumpkins CD and I'm pretty sure I went home with butterflies in my stomach.  He called to ask me to go to Magic Mountain with him.  My cousin called to tell me I couldn't.  We didn't see each other again for years.

The next time we met  I was on a family vacation with my cousin and Popeye had come over to our hotel to visit and invited us to hang out.   We spent the evening hanging out at his apartment on the coast.  I remember talking about his older brother's upcoming wedding and walking on the beach until 3am.  My grandma called furious that us girls had been out so late with boys.  I remember thinking he was still the same crazy cute boy I remembered from years ago.

The third time we met was in front of  Jamba Juice.  He asked me out in front of my cousins and friends and I am pretty sure I was walking on Cloud 9.  My cousins warned me, "You're too serious!  He is too crazy!"  Just a summer fling... I'd tell them.  Just something fun before I move away.
But I could hardly stand the anticipation.
I could hardly function just waiting for a date 6 years in-the-making.

Our first date was at John's Incredible Pizza.
I hardly ate.  He did magic tricks.
We ended up hanging out until the break of dawn and hardly skipped a beat.  

I may have been a little too crazy in-love.

He may have been a little too unready to grow-up.

We dated for eight months.

And I cried for months when it was over.

The fourth time we met is as clear in my mind today as if it had just happened yesterday.

He called and left a message on my phone:

"Hey, it's Popeye.  Remember me?  We used to date.  I heard you got eye surgery and are hot now.  Call me."
I laughed because it was just so.... him.  For the first time in over a year I was laughing hearing his voice instead of crying.
It felt good to feel giddy again.

I waited hours to call back.  I prayed that God would protect my heart.

We took it slow.

We set up a date.

He said he had to put his phone in his desk drawer so that he wouldn't call me every five minutes.

I was nervous and worried and determined to play it cold and cool.

We met in secret behind a shopping center dumpster.

Because we are super classy like that.

We dated for two weeks before I told him I wasn't doing this again.  Falling in love only to be disappointed.

He said it was for real.  

And we went and looked at rings.

Four months after our second first date we were engaged.

A little over six months later we were married.

Nearly seven years later and we are still madly in love.

It was a long, long road getting here. 

Not just in our dating life, but our married life as well.

We've had loss and we've had heartache.

We've had disappointment and we've felt pain.

But we've also had joy and delight.

We've experienced mercy and grace.

And we've created a million happy little memories along the way.

I wouldn't trade it for the world, this crazy road we've been down.

It has shaped who I am, who we are.

He has taught me incredible things about patience and love and God's forgiveness.

And I hope I've taught him a little about eating vegetables and making the bed.

We aren't perfect.

We never will be.

But he still is and forever more will be that crazy cute boy who gives me butterflies.

And I pray that never goes away.