that led me straight to you.” (Rascal Flatts)
On October 1st, 1996, I went to a friends house with one of my girlfriends to have a beer and complain about my ex. HE welcomed us in and introduced us to two of his friends. One of them was Mr. B.
At approximately 2 a.m. on November 2nd, 1996, I asked Mr. B to officially be my boyfriend.
He said okay.
Ten minutes later I asked him if he’d marry me.
He said he’d been wanting to ask me that for the past two weeks.
Mid May 1997, I baked him a chocolate cake and cooked our favorite frozen pizza (we were poor as dirt doggonit), and asked him if we could move the date up a year or so.
He said okay.
And on June 7th, 1997 we made it official. No one has seen these pictures in a long, long time.
There were no digital cameras. There were no limos. There was moonshine. There were tents in the yard (for family). There was a bonfire. My mom was my Maid of Honor. On his grandmother’s front steps, so she could attend the ceremony, and quickly retreat to her bed (she was undergoing chemo).
(he looks a bit devilish there doesn’t he?)
Dear Mr. B,
I loved you then. I love you now. Faults and all. I love our fights. I love our making up. I love the hand holding. I love the getting lost in your eyes (still!) standing in line at Walmart. I love that you said yes.
Happy 14 years together baby…