The Story of Us Pt. 1
(a part of a look at the past)
Nothing happened at first. Months passed, actually. I continued dating my boyfriend, but I truly liked Josh. As time went on, Josh and I became good friends, though I was extremely shy around him. He was two years older than I was–I had no idea how to act when I was near him. He was a mystery within himself, though, and it was hard for me to decipher who he was. As his graduation grew nearer, I became more aware of my feelings for him, and I felt as if I had to end my relationship with my boyfriend. So I did. Not easily, though.
Summer began. Josh and I, along with two of our friends, began hanging out. That’s when things became difficult, though. I knew Josh liked me, but I didn’t know how much; and I knew we couldn’t have a relationship because he had a fear of relationships at the time. When I least expected it, Josh would disappear from me for weeks at a time. During those weeks, I would date other boys (including my previous boyfriend who eventually stopped talking to me completely for ending our relationship for a second time; only recently did he forgive me for “breaking his heart”). It seemed like as soon as I would date someone else, Josh would reappear, and I would rethink my feelings for him. Then just like that, he would disappear. I hated it, and I would disappear too. I actually only dated a couple boys during that time, but the relationships hurt me more than they hurt Josh–which was what I childishly wanted them to do.
Though we were constantly in and out of each other’s lives, we considered ourselves best friends. We had never even hung out alone together (until after my junior year in high school), but we felt a connection. I knew I’d marry him someday. I’d have to. There were times when he thought so too.
One night, he called me while he was intoxicated. He had called me maybe once before, so it was out of the ordinary. He had disappeared again, so it was unexpected to have him call. He confessed his love to me, and I just agreed, saying “okay” because I thought it could have been the alcohol talking–he assured me it wasn’t. “Will you still marry me someday?” I said yes, that I would. That wasn’t the first time we said we loved each other before we had even dated. He made sure I knew that it was a different kind of love, though. Something he couldn’t define. A bigger sort of love.
We started to spend time together, and as we did, we grew closer. I turned eighteen, and a month later, Josh sent me a text asking if I was his girlfriend. I was in complete shock. I guess I was, we decided. And that was that. We finally, after a couple years of back and forth, committed to one another. We moved in together about eight months after that. Now, here we are. Married. Best friends, still. No more back and forth.
Josh always tells me that I saved him; but it’s hard for him to believe that, in more ways than one, he saved me.
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