The last set of questions were asked by Jenny.
If you could have any wish or any experience, Patch Adams style, what would it be?
To live a happy, fulfilled life … and bring that happiness to at least one person throughout my life.
How did you and your husband meet and get together?
I have a love/hate relationship with this question. I love being asked it, but the story can be long and confusing. So, sit back and relax.
The summer before my sophomore year of highschool (living in TN), my granny was diagnosed with lung cancer. In an attempt to cheer her up (and make her feel better), Dad decided to move us back to Florida to be near her. (I had a boyfriend back in TN and we continued to date the entire time I was in Florida.) During my time there, I started a xanga account to keep my friends updated. (It was mostly filled with angry posts about how much I hated being there and how upset I was that my best friend [Granny] was dying in front of me. Unfortunately, I’ve since deleted that xanga [dang it!], so I’m unable to show you posts.)
Granny passed away in August, but my family still wanted to attempt starting a life back in Florida. I started school (my sophomore year), and it was one of the hardest times in my life (thus far). By the beginning of the new year, though, my parents had decided that they missed Tennessee too much, so they told us we’d be moving back. I was beyond thrilled, and I wrote in my Xanga about it. Later, I received a comment from a boy that I didn’t know (under the name Jimi Higgenbottom). He told me that he was glad that I’d be moving back and that he was glad I was finally happy. (Apparently, he had been reading for a while, though I had NO IDEA who he was. I actually assumed he was some boy that maybe went to the Univ. of TN who had just happened upon my little blog.) It was odd that someone I didn’t know actually cared that I would be happy again.
Fast forward to February (still my sophomore year); my family moved back to Tennessee. It was surreal. The first night, I went to a “welcome home” party, but I realized how much things had changed. I thought my friends had changed, but it wasn’t them. It was me; I had grown up. I felt awkward.
I started school a day or two after (details are fuzzy) at the same high school I had gone to for my freshman year. The counselor let me choose my classes, so I picked each class based on the classes my friends had. By the time sixth period had rolled around, I had so many people coming up to me saying, “Hey, you’re that girl that moved to Florida and came back. Blue eyes.” (My name on xanga was bluexeyes88–haha!) Apparently, a lot of people had been reading. (It was odd.) I had several friends in my sixth period, including my sister.
I don’t remember if it happened the first day or a few days later. (Like I said, details are fuzzy now.) There was a curly-haired boy with a scar on his nose. I thought he was cute (but I still had a boyfriend), so I flirted mildly. Or tried to, at least. I remember asking him for a piece of gum. I remember it being Orbit’s bubble mint gum. Someone said his name (Josh [lastname]), and it hit me. (His real name had been on his xanga profile.) Jimi Higgenbottom. The boy who was so glad I was happy. I immediately said, “Jimi Higgenbottom” out loud. He smiled and nodded, almost an I wondered how long it would take you. I loved him right then, I won’t lie.
He was a senior, so he soon graduated. I broke up with my boyfriend. I was ready to move forward, and I wanted to move forward with this new boy. He felt the same way, but he was wishy-washy. One second, he would like me; the next second, I wouldn’t hear from him for weeks. We hung out that summer (always with other people), and then I started my junior year. I rarely heard from him except on xanga or AIM. On Valentine’s Day, he text me telling me he loved me. I thought we’d be forever then. Of course, he’d disappear again.
I was ready to move on. Well, not ready, but I was forcing myself to be. I tried dating, but it didnt work out. Every time there’d be a new boy, Josh would come back around, and I’d be smitten again. Once he had me, he’d disappear again. He called me once while he was drunk and told me he loved me. I just laughed. He asked if I’d still marry him someday. I said, “sure, Josh.”
I tried dating someone else. (He was no good for me.) Josh hated him, and every time I realized things wouldn’t work out with this someone else, I’d turn to Josh. I remember going to his house one day, after that someone else said he just wanted to be friends. I laid on Josh’s bed while he sat in a chair and played guitar. My eyes were closed for the longest time, but when I opened them, he was looking at me. I decided in that moment that I’d wait for him. (I knew he had a hard time trusting people, for reasons that I won’t be talking about on this blog.)
Fast forward to my senior year, second semester. Josh and I had spent a lot of time together in previous months, but he had disappeared again (shortly). One day, he text me asking if I was his girlfriend. From there on out, I was. Then I was his fiance. Now, his wife. The wait was difficult for me, but it was so worth it in the end. What made him realize he wanted to be with me? “It killed me to think of you with anyone else.”
And it all started because of a blog.
(I actually wrote about how we met here and here. I felt like going into more detail on this one, though. To read random posts from old diaries about Husband and I when we dated/before we dated, go here.)
