It was eight years ago today that I finally got the courage to meet that mystery guy behind all the emails. I mean, by this point we had spent hours upon hours talking on the phone and spilling our lives in the form of email. Dinner should be a piece of cake. But why was I nervous? I mean, he liked what he had heard enough to keep talking to me. And I did to. But what if he didn't like what he saw? Or what if we didn't have anything to talk about in person? Could that really happen - I mean, I felt like I had only cracked the surface of our lives, our goals, our dreams. I remember sitting at work, not being able to concentrate on anything. What would I eat? What would I wear? What if his picture was from like 20 years ago (okay, maybe that didn't really cross my mind, but we had met on Match.com so you never know).
6:13pm
That's the time we set to met. And like clock work, we both arrived at the restaurant at the same time. My mom warned me to meet in a public place when it was light out because after all, this was a blind date in a sense.
Ooh... he drives a sports car. And is fit. I like what I see.
Dinner went smooth (quick, but smooth). We might have been a bit nervous. But we were both nervous about the same thing. We went to a movie - always a dumb thing on a first date since you can't talk. I had butterflies. I liked him. Really liked him.
We ended the evening with a hug (he'll argue that I wanted a kiss, but whatever). We agreed to see each other again. I called my mom on the way home and told her that I would marry him someday.
And I did.
And the 8 years it's been since meeting him have been the absolute best years of my life. I look forward to a lifetime more!
Love you Brady...
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