My Own Love Story

Happy February! This month I’m focusing on LOVE and my relationship with my husband. Seemed fitting to make my first post of the month about how I met my husband!

…Insert flashback music here….

I was in my freshman year of college. I was going out with some newer friends, and my roommate decided to stay home that night with another friend. She straightened my hair and helped me get ready for the night.

I borrowed a jacket from the other friend, and my roommate sent me along with orders to be safe and to call her at least once.  My roommate’s life was less sheltered than my own, and I think she may have had a special place in her heart for naïve little happy-go-lucky country bumpkin Jennifer.

The party was going to be outdoors at a friend of my friends. We stopped by the grocery store on the way there to pick up marshmallows since we heard the party would have a bonfire. Just a bunch of kids ready to enjoy being young.

We showed up at the party, which if I remember correctly, was at a trailer in the woods. If someone tried to take me back to that same place today, I would probably think that person was going to murder me. However, we were young and dumb, so we hopped right out and made our way to the keg.

After a while, we remembered our marshmallows. We didn’t have enough sticks for everyone, so a friend started to roast a marshmallow for me. She caught the marshmallow on fire, blew it out, and offered the burnt marshmallow to me. I declined. I am awfully particular about my marshmallows being browned but not burnt. If it’s been on fire, I do not want it.

As I was politely declining that particular marshmallow from my friend, another marshmallow flew towards my mouth. I was surprised by this unexpected marshmallow. The marshmallow fell onto my borrowed jacket.

I was shocked and irritated. “WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! THIS IS NOT EVEN MY JACKET!” I thought to myself. In my haze, I looked up to see a giant man standing next to me, apologizing for dropping the marshmallow on me. I repeated my thoughts aloud this time so he could hear my disapproval.

The man apologized and told me he would take me to the bathroom to help me clean my jacket. “UM, NO WAY, JOSE,” I thought to myself. I declined the offer.

Then I remembered I wasn’t sure where the bathrooms were. On second thought, I let this man stranger take me to the bathroom, but I insisted he needed to stand outside while I washed the marshmallow off of my friend’s jacket.

Once I cleaned up, the man apologized again and maintained he thought I knew he was feeding me a marshmallow. I didn’t. That’s definitely something you either know or you don’t. No gray area there. But oh well. Here he was chatting with me anyway.

Turns out this man was friends with the Residential Advisor (RA) of the girls who took me to the party. The RA introduced us, and we talked about whatever it is people talk about in a trailer at a party. We laughed, and the more I talked with him, the more I liked this man, even after the very bizarre first encounter.

By the end of the night, I knew something was special about him. He was tall, handsome, and very funny. The RA gave him her seal of approval, and he seemed to be a good guy overall despite trying to feed marshmallows to strangers. He ended up driving a group of us home.

I knew it was love when he started up his car, and his car headlights popped up. It didn’t take much to impress little sheltered country Jennifer.

When we got home, I told my roommate that the man who drove me home felt special. This probably confirmed her suspicions that I was a certified lunatic.

Before we ever even kissed, I decided he would be my husband one day. I told multiple people he was the one for me. Again, I believe this confirmed rumors of insanity. It took several weeks of light stalking before that man asked me to be his girlfriend, but he finally did late one night in his dorm room, adorned with glowing blue rope lights.  How romantic!

When he asked me to make it official, I tried to talk him out of it. I told him that if he wanted to be my boyfriend, it would mean that he’d have to be with just me. He laughed and said of course he understood that.

I’m not sure if he knew I meant he’d have to be with just me for the rest of time. Details. But he consented, and that moment began our official relationship.

Why haven’t you married me yet?

We dated throughout college, and I fully expected he’d ask me to marry him once we graduated. Well, we graduated, and a proposal was nowhere in sight.

He insisted he loved me but he wanted to make sure his career was underway before taking on a wife. I mean it sounded like the responsible thing to do but at that point in my life, I preferred to jump head first into everything and figure it out as I went along.

I made up a completely arbitrary ultimatum that we would have to break up if he didn’t propose by a year after college graduation. He proposed literally less than a week before that date.

We were married a little over a year afterwards, and the best thing about that day was my cake.  The second best thing was that I was finally officially married to that marshmallow-throwing man.


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