Our Love Story, Part I

A kind reader commented recently, "You've yet to tell us about how you two crazy lovebirds met! :) Or, maybe you did and I came along too late or missed it. Always like a good love story..."

I got to thinking about that and realized we've got a pretty unusual and wonderful story. It just never occurred to me to write about it! If you don't like love stories, then you can ignore this series of future posts; they'll be plainly titled "Our Love Story, Part..." and will not occur at any regular intervals -- just as the mood strikes and the words flow.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It all started on a chilly October evening. I was a dewy eyed freshman in college, still finding my place on campus and in the world at large.

I'd made friends, almost immediately, with a skirt person. Skirt people are safe. They are stereotyped characterized by long straight hair, corrective lenses, canvas shoes with white socks, an ankle length skirt (bonus points if homemade), a collared shirt (bonus points for ruffles), a love of literature, and a wholesome virtuous character. They're usually overlooked by the world, but if you want a true blue friend, go for the skirt people.

Anyway, "Meg" was just such a skirt person, and we bonded instantly over a love of Lord of the Rings. Only, she didn't wear a skirt... or canvas shoes with white socks, or a ruffled shirt. If I remember correctly, she was wearing jeans, a pretty sweater, and stylish shoes. But she had long raven black hair, glasses, and a wholesome virtuous character! A real salt of the earth gal from Pennsylvania. So she qualified for best friend potential.

On one evening late in October, under a harvest moon, a rare event called "open hours" was going on. For a few hours, guys were allowed into our dorm. So long as the doors were wide open and the RAs could walk in and out at will, no place was safe from giggling girls and grinning guys. My own room was to be host to a batch of eligibles, but I suspected that if there were one room in the dorm that would be giggle free, it would be Meg's. I liked Meg's roommate, "Miriam," well enough, so I retreated there for the evening to watch a movie.

Propped up on my elbows in the top bunk, we chatted and laughed freely about things of no consequence. Midterms were behind us and this was going to be a fun evening. Miriam mentioned, in passing, "Oh, I invited my brother to watch the movie with us tonight, I hope you don't mind." I figured brothers were innocuous enough... "oh, no problem."

Gentle readers, I was clearly not prepared for the ensuing events.

Into the room strode Miriam's older brother. I let out a barely audible gasp. My pulse quickened.

She had failed to mention that he was 6'3. She had failed to mention that his shoulders were broad and strong. She had failed to mention that he had peaceful azure eyes with a penetrating gaze. She had failed to mention his brawny hands. She failed to mention that his deep voice had rich amber tones. She failed to mention he was a Master's student. This was no "brother," this was a man!

I gaped at him in girlish wonder, my heart now throbbing in my ears.

Initial introductions were made and small talk commenced as Miriam tried to get the VHS player to work.

"What are you studying?," Meg asked him.

"Philosophy."

A more audible gasp escaped my lips, along with the overflow of a squelched squeak. I tried to feign hiccups.

"What are you studying?," he asked me, politely.

He's talking to me. What do I do now?? Remain calm. Wait, I'm not calm, how can I remain calm? Just answer him!

"Theology, with a philosophy minor," I finally blurted out, a little too eagerly and a little too loudly. "Who are your favorite philosophy professors here?," I asked in a more disinterested tone, trying to recover.

Our little exchange lasted less than two minutes, but I couldn't take it anymore. I had never met anyone like him before. Sure there'd been plenty of nice guys, and some of them quite good looking, but none of them had ever had the power of presence and personality to make me literally swoon. This man was different.

To this day I don't know what made me do it. Abruptly and out of nowhere, I just ducked.

Literally. Overwhelmed by it all, like a flash I dropped down in the top bunk, out of sight, awkwardly ending the conversation. Not knowing how to recover from this faux pas, I slowly peered over the bed rail just in time to catch his quizzical and amused look and the traces of a tiny grin.

I've never been so grateful as I was seconds later when the blue screen flickered and the VHS started. The lights were turned off and I finally breathed as he turned his gaze to the movie.

"Oh, I'm such an idiot!! What must he think of me! Why did I duck?? What was I doing??"

I honestly can't remember which movie we watched that night; I don't think I even saw a minute of it. I was only watching him.

To be continued...