My Love Story

[Back-Linked on 6/24/10]
 

First of all, can you please just play - or at least imagine - a Taylor Swift song playing in the background of this post?  (Any song will do.) Thanks!

So, let's be honest, boys weren't really throwing themselves at me in middle school and high school.  For starters, I was "a prude." I also have freckles, which didn't help my case.  Either way, I cried after my first kiss in eighth grade so, I resigned myself to being a nun early in life.  ;)

In ninth grade, Jeff and I went on approximately four dates.  That is, of course, only if you consider your parents driving you to school dances in the backseat of the family van a date.  Then, out of no where - just when I thought things were beginning to get serious - he broke up with me on AOL.  (How could he?!?)

Lucky for him, he was just a little too late and I'd already decided he was the love of my life.  He could run, but he couldn't hide! For the next two years, I took every opportunity to humiliate myself convince Jeff that we should be together.  I wrote in a journal my sophomore year: "God, if you don't want us to be together, why can't you just let me GET OVER THIS BOY? I know there is something special about him."  (And trust me, I believed this with every ounce of my fifteen year old self.) 

Although he said 'no' all THREE times I asked him to dances etc., for some reason Jeff kept coming around.  Our lives, by this point, had taken dramatically different routes.  He became one of the "cool kids" who snuck out and drank, and I took on the role of "good girl" -- complete with Student Government, Young Life, and the newspaper staff.  While Jeff's friends made fun of me in the halls, my friends and I made up nicknames to talk about him ("the Rat" if you must know), listened to sappy KC & JoJo love songs, and drove by his house most Friday nights. I can pretty much guarantee you that if you asked ANYONE who knew us then if we'd ever get married, they'd give it a 1 in 25856784923 chance... (There was probably a better chance that he'd take out a restraining order and I'd end up in jail!)

Then, finally, my junior year, I had my first real boyfriend.  He was a great guy and perfectly fit the image of "Miss Christianity" I was going for...  For the first time in two years, I didn't think about Jeff all the time.  After all, he wasn't the "kind of guy" I was looking for.  Meanwhile, however, Jeff was going through his own transformation.  And, while I'd like to take credit for it, I can't at all.  He had become a Christian that winter and started hanging out with my group of friends - you know, the ones I ditched as soon as I got a boyfriend.  (Oh, high school!)

Ironically, the night I got dumped - and trust me, I mourned - when I called a girlfriend to cry, Jeff answered the phone.  And... the rest is history....  (Yeah right!) 

To be continued...