Around the time of 2008's summer, Andrew and I both started experiencing really tough life decisions. Andrew had a hard time adjusting to normal life after working as a full time missionary and struggled with insomnia, which made him grouchy and anxious more often than not. He thought he was going to love living with some of his good friends, but after moving, felt like he should have stayed with Matt in the apartment across from mine (Hmmm... I wonder why?). He also had a crazy ex-girlfriend from high school who never left him alone, even though she had a boyfriend and lived four hours away.
Yep! I just wrote "crazy ex-girlfriend from high school" and this took place more than three and a half years after high school (and their 6 month relationship!) ended. But y'know, whatev. I wouldn't have been able to get over Andrew well, either. Good thing he's mine!
As for me, on my twenty-second birthday, I ended a somewhat brutal, quasi (maybe pseudo? don't ask, it was bad.) relationship that I'd been invested in off and on for a year and a half. Afterwards, I crawled onto the roof next to Andrew's former bedroom window just to get away from the handful of boys sitting in my living room, making fun of my favorite movie (Penelope). For the next few months, I focused on school, signed up for a study abroad based in Italy, and fleshed out what I wanted to do with my life, leading me to become much more serious about photography and writing. During a semester where I was taking seventeen (sixteen and a half?) credits, pulling A's, and working two jobs, I also wrote 70% of a novel during sleepless nights.
I'd always had close friends and never struggled with being liked in group situations (except in middle school, but who doesn't have a problem with that when they use Sun-In and wear purple and turquoise braces?), and I still had a handful of close friends, but I could feel myself changing and by November, I was much more comfortable with myself than I had been in a long time, even though I sometimes felt a little secluded. I kept dating, but aside from loving funny texts and conversations, none of the boys I dated fit quite right, which wasn't surprising because I was never a relationship girl, anyway... and by that, I mean post-high school (aside from Mr. C., obviously), I never called a single boy I dated my "boyfriend" because I was, like, so not into labels or being labeled as someone's property.
During this time period, my only interaction with Mr. C. was this:
One afternoon (in the library, of course), I logged onto Facebook and saw that Andrew had sent me a message. I opened it, hit "reply", started to type and then decided that, since we'd only looked at each other before, he'd probably sent it to the wrong person. I deleted what I'd written and moved on with my day. And Andrew? He waited for a response that never came, until the message was brought up after we were engaged.
Poor baby. Good thing I married him or he might have thought I was flaky for the rest of his life!
Wedding photography by Lovelight Photography.