A year ago today, I was sitting
in a stranger’s backyard. I sat there scorching in my black leggings, because
even though it was the 4th of July and the weather was finally
getting on board with the whole summer situation, I felt safer covered up. The
backyard patriotic barbecue carried on oblivious to my plight, but then again,
I was also unaware. Squinting against the sunlight to read my phone’s display,
the world around me melted away every time I heard that telltale vibrate that
meant I had a message. He’d been texting me for about a month. Five days later
I would pluck up my courage, overcome an irrational hatred of actual phone
conversations, and call him. But for now it was the 4th of July, and
while I hadn’t met him in person yet, I had the whole day to volley texts back
and forth with someone who was rapidly becoming my best friend. Entire days
spent without pause, fingers glued to the keypad as I answered his questions
and asked my own. For a month straight I was floating on air; how fun to have a
random guy so interested in chatting, to surprisingly find such a kindred
spirit. I felt like we’d known each other for years. I didn’t really expect
much, but I did wonder; what was the future going to hold for us? And then I
heard that familiar buzz and looked down at my screen. It was another
paragraph. An aspect I had come to quite like about our conversations, his
penchant for sending book-length texts to me, full of articulate, charming,
witty, or profound words. We’d been discussing the nature of a soul mate,
purely academically and objectively of course. But his answer was an echo of my
thoughts with his own experience and insight thrown in, and I couldn’t help but
smile broadly, looking crazy all hunkered down by myself in the back corner of
the porch, while the rest of the party interacted like normal, social human
beings: 
“Love is a choice. The way I
think you’ve met the right person is how well you two communicate and how your
strengths and weaknesses compliment one another, rather than divide. I think
sustaining love is work; very rewarding, but very grueling work. Working
through one’s problems together and encouraging one another to closer
relationships with Christ is a very bonding and sustainable practice. The
overlooked caveat is that it often requires two broke, effed-up sinners.” And
that’s when it struck me: I could fall in love with him. I wasn’t in love with
him then, but I got this feeling that I could be. A feeling that if I could
look into the future and we were together, I wouldn’t be surprised. It was a
fleeting thought, and then my logical and rational personality woke up and
laughed at my premonition. This will most likely end up being a blimp on my
life story and everything will go back to how it was before. It won’t be as
exciting, but that’s life.
A year later I’m sitting in a
Starbucks waiting outside for my fiancé to get off of work. We’ll go home and
watch the fireworks tonight, and I’ll wear shorts because he’s made me realize
how downright dumb it is to be worried about showing who I am. And I’ll look
back to the 4th of July last year. And I’ll realize that today marks
the one-year anniversary of the moment that I fell in love with my best friend.
That same boy I briefly imagined could be mine? Turns out he IS the one. And
over the course of that year, he turned into the best friend I’ve ever had, the
sweetest boyfriend a girl could ask for, and now a fiancé that fills me with
sweet anticipation knowing that in less than two months, his title will change
yet again, and he’ll be my husband
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