It doesn't seem possibly that eight years can come and go so quick. Don't get me wrong, they've been amazing, but time has to slow down at some point, right?
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).
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...