My husband and I were at our friends' Mark and Ashley Benuska's wedding when I told my husband that I couldn't believe I was married to him.
He took this the complete wrong way and actually got a little upset with me. I proceeded to try to explain what I meant, but failed. As I sit here today starring at my wedding photos these same thoughts have crossed my mind so I'm going to try to explain again.
At our friends' wedding there were a lot of people there that we went to high school with. It was in high school that I met Paul so it had me reminiscing.
I'm not going to lie, I don't remember the exact moment I saw him or under what circumstances that we met, but I do remember the progression of my crush on him. I was 15 and we had mutual friends so our paths would cross throughout the school day.
At first we would see each other at lunch and then I started to notice him at certain passing periods. And then I was taking specific hallways to class because I knew I would run into him. His hellos at first were head nods and the occasional tap on the shoulder. Then it turned into what I call the "PVY hip hug." This is when he would come up from behind me and hug me by the hips. Now mind you, my future husband was literally the biggest flirt in the school and did this to numerous girls a day, but despite this my heart would race in my chest every time he did. And when I saw him do it to someone else, it raced again in a jealous fury.
What I have left out is that my crush had a girlfriend. She was my year, popular and beautiful. So despite my PVY obsession I dated as well all the while keeping Paul as my friend. By sophomore year we were pretty good friends, hanging in the same circles and shamelessly flirting.
He spent his lunch hours moving from table to table flirting with his array of girls crushing on him. He saved me for last, spending the most time with me before the bell rang and always giving me his sweatshirt. The bad news is I had last hour after that and with his girlfriend who needless to say was not a fan of me wearing his sweatshirt.
Lunch hour flirting turned into walking me to class and occasional rides home from school. My favorite high school memory is me getting to school late on Valentine's Day and rushing to my locker to find him leaning on my locker door with a rose. All hot in his auto shop clothes and waiting for me. It was my very own "10 things I hate about you moment." No Paul didn't serenade me on the football field, but it was definitely my moment. To be honest, I don't think I have ever felt that heart-stopping feeling again until he asked me to marry him.
So by my junior year I finally captured his heart. And everyone knew it. Paul went from being the school flirt to a man openly in love. We walked hand-in-hand to every class and our hallway kisses were for everyone to see. I went from being just one of the girls in school to Paul's girlfriend and therefore one of the more hated among my fellow female peers.
Every girl has a high school crush, but not ever girl gets him. I did.
We dated for about three years before college and careers took us in different directions, although we did give it our all. But no one marries their high school sweetheart, right?
Wrong.
About six years after our life-altering break-up we crossed paths again. I moved back from school and we started hanging with the same people again. This time I do remember the first-time I saw him again.
We were at a local bar (me freshly 21) and on a mission to show those high school friends I was all grown up. We met eyes while he was on the dance floor and it was like I was 15 all over again. My heart raced and yearned for the "PVY hip hug" again.
Because fate has always liked to play games with us, we were both unavailable and seemingly with significant others that we would eventually marry. That is until I saw Paul. I'm not exaggerating. I instantly knew that I did not feel for my current boyfriend how I ever felt for Paul. Shortly after I left him and waited patiently on the sidelines for my PVY to figure out the same thing.
He did, which leads us up to present day where I am Mrs. PVY.
When I told my husband I couldn't believe I was married to him, what I meant was I couldn't believe I was married to the high school boy I daydreamed about through every math class I had in high school, to the first guy who made my heart race and the man that to this day still makes me feel like I am 15-years-old and head over heels in love with the popular boy in school.
It's unrealistic to believe a successful marriage won't take work, but I think we have a pretty good base to think back on when needed.
