We had only just met a few weeks prior, but suddenly I was head over heals. My nights were spent talking until the early morning hours and my days were spent day dreaming.
His 1992 Honda Accord would barely make the 2 hour drive to my house each weekend and by the time it did my butterflies were dancing wildly. The rumble of the deafening muffler coming closer would make my palms start to sweat and my heart beat faster.
He found my country girl attitude amusing and I found his city boy mentality charming.
Dinner’s out were romantic. We would stare at each other across the table and hold hands, whisper, and make plans. Servers would call us cute. No one had ever held my hand on top of a table at a restaurant before, or swept my hair off of my cheek while we waited for our drinks. No one had ever kept their eyes locked on mine when the server came back to ask if we needed anything else.
I could feel my heart swelling.
Music played in the background as we drove around aimlessly, happy to be together even if it was only for a few days. My hands would glide across the steering wheel nervously as I spoke, giggling at his stories.
My heart filled, the music got louder, and I was certain it would burst,
I wish I could say I heard angels singing and that my hair was floating in a heavenly glow.
But I can’t because then I would be a liar.
I watched my love’s face change, a look coming over him I’d never seen before. He asked me to pull the car over and tucked my hair behind my ear.
He stared at me.
I continued my rhythmic bopping to what is now “our” song.
He leaned in and kissed me.
And I was in love!