Do you think you'll still like me by then...?

2 years ago, on Jan 18th, I met Matthew.

Looking back I'm amazed to be sitting where I am right now. On my nice hand-me-down couch next to this man that I couldn't imagine my life without.

It was an interesting journey considering I was waiting for a missionary at the time...and the fact he had 1 month left before he came home and we planned to be married 3 months after that. Yup. I was that girl.

For 23 months I had tried to get out there and feel normal again. Be myself...but for 23 months it felt like part of me was missing. I remember writing in my journal, every day it felt like I was searching for that part of me that was missing, that part of me that at-the-time I thought was my missionary...but then something happened...

My friend Jessica convinced me to go out with her and have some girl time. So we drove around, in the freezing cold January weather, with the windows down blasting music and singing our lungs out. It wasn't long before she got a text from her friend who invited us over to his apartment. I was hesitant only because it was an apartment of guys and I had been use to shunning all men. But it sounded out of the ordinary and exciting so we headed over.

Once we got there I was shocked at how much fun I was having! We all sat around the table looking over pirate tattoos when all the sudden in walked the most sexy man I'd ever seen...returning from a date. But of course I pushed it from my mind and ignored this new cute boy named Matthew, reminding myself, "I have a missionary." I am, after all, a very stubborn girl (...or so Matt reminds me) and when I have my mind set on something...I WAS going to wait and marry my missionary. So I hadn't noticed right away when he came and sat down right next to me but then, we hit it off! It felt like we'd known each other forever and were long lost friends. We laughed. We talked. All inhibitions were gone.

For the first time in 23 months...I got the butterflies, goosebumps, chills...I was twitterpated.

But the end of the night came and he didn't ask for my phone number! And for the first time...I was disappointed.

But don't worry! It ends happy.

The next day I got a text from my "newest stalker." Haha. Apparently he went through a whole lot of of work to get my number and I was thrilled and flattered.

As Valentines Day got closer he started hinting, saying things like, "I've never had a Valentine before..." I played dumb and only responded with, "Oh...hey, we should go get sodas!" Eventually he asked if I would be his Valentine, and even though it made my insides flutter with excitement, all I said was, "I dunno. Do you think you'll still like me by then...?" To which he smiled from ear to ear and replied, "I know I will." Which then sent the fluttering stomach into my heart.

At this point things started getting complicated. And even though I told Matt I had a missionary and didn't want anything serious, and even though he completely agreed saying he wasn't ready for anything serious either, I was smitten.

I'd lay in bed at night replaying that days adventures. Reading over our text conversations and stalking his facebook pictures...to which my eyes would pop and my mouth would drool. For some reason, this random boy from Belmont Apt 343 had me feeling myself, alive and happy again...the very thing I'd been searching for over the last 23 months.

Then it came. The day before my missionary came home. Because of what I assume was stress/excitement/anxiety, I got sick. And as I lay on my Moms massage table at her office Matt sat in the chair next to me holding my hand telling me, for the first time, "I love you. I lied...I want you. I want you all to myself...I want to be yours and only yours."

Well the rest is history.

It wasn't easy...and it does make me sad knowing I made a lot of mistakes and could have done things a whole lot easier and less painful for everyone involved but...let's be honest. Would I be me without all of that? So, Matt and I got married. And we had our dream wedding. And every day I get to think back and remember the boy that brought me back. The boy that saved me from what would have been my biggest mistake. The boy who looked at me the other day, on our 2 year since-I-met-you anniversary and asked if I'd spend eternity with him and all I could say with a giant grin was,

"...do you think you'll still like me by then?"

And to which he replied, with a smile from ear to ear, "I know I will."

Pictures from the night I met my Matthew, by Matthew:

Me and Jessica right after jumping on his bed.

Don't really remember what we were laughing at =)

Wearing Matt's hats.

He snuck this one.