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Have I ever told you the story of him? There's fragments of him in everything I write, of course-- so I'm sure you've been able to link together some of the pieces. But there are a lot of in-betweens and side stories that make telling the story-- our story-- a wee bit difficult. No, lengthy. That's the word I was looking for. But long story short, our friendship can be traced all the way back to seventh grade. He was afraid of girls and I pretended I wasn't afraid of anything. The journey started there, but continued throughout the years-- with ups and downs, of course, but mostly ups. He's always been there. Always. 

Our senior year of high school is when things between us started to become more serious. He found out he'd be heading off to Norway for two years to serve a mission and I found myself buying candles at Bath and Body Works just because they smelled like him... (Strange, I know. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.) And then, the time snuck up on us far too quickly and he was a world away from me. 

I went on a mission too-- but my mission took me to Asia, which managed to make me feel even further away from him. For two whole years all of our communication was through written words. Letters and emails. And that was that. Missions are weird sometimes because they make people who are very much a part of your life feel like nothing more than a fading dream. But it was the best thing we could have ever done-- he served with all his heart in Norway and I served with all my heart in Korea and somehow, after all of that, we ended up back together-- right here.

He's still the same him and I'm still the same me and we're both just as weird as we've ever been. It's just funny to think that the "happily ever after" I imagined up within my skull during all those times I missed him is actually here-- he's here. I can poke his face and hug him. He's not a world away anymore. He's right here. 

And that's that.

But this isn't the end of our story, of course. 
It's just the beginning.



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