Eighteen years was how long I lived with my parents. At eighteen years old I moved out of their house, out of the state, and drove to California to begin my next chapter…college.
After eighteen years I had finally flown the coop, an adult ready for this new life.
On that very first day of my next chapter I met a boy. A boy who was cruising in his Jeep with his new college buddies. He was eighteen. He pulled up in his Jeep calling out on his PA system, “What’s up, ladies?!” to myself and my new college girlfriends. We giggled at the boys in the Jeep, began a conversation with them and hung out together the rest of the evening.
That boy driving the Jeep and I quickly became the best of friends. He was the guy I would tell who I had a crush on and have him relay messages. He was the one I would page, (pagers were super cool), when my truck would break down and I needed his mechanic skills to come rescue me. He was the one I went on my first road trip with during our first three day weekend in college. He was the cute basketball player that I got to cheer for. He was the fun guy that everyone wanted to hang out with. He was the gentleman I would tell my friends about, saying that he was going make one girl very happy someday.
As the months went by I stopped telling him who I had crushes on because he was becoming my crush.
As the months went by I became that one girl who he made very happy.
One night we were hanging out in my dorm lobby. Just he and I goofing off, teasing each other, he telling me jokes and even showing me his crazy new magic trick.
On that evening, November 21, 2000, my best friend asked me to be his girlfriend.
A couple of eighteen years olds, eighteen years ago.
Today, November 21, 2018, marks eighteen years since that cute eighteen year old college boy asked me to be his girlfriend.
Every November 21st that followed we celebrated. Every year I would ask him to show me how he did that crazy magic trick he showed me that night in my dorm lobby and he never would. Every year we would joke about how I had no clue that he liked me for months all while I was talking to him about every other boy I liked. Every year we would look back on how young we were. Eighteen.
Eighteen years ago I was an eighteen year old girl who fell in love for the first time.
Today I would have been with Mike as long as I was with my parents. We would have celebrated and laughed. Maybe he would have finally given in and showed me that magic trick.
Today, eighteen years later, I will still laugh. I will still celebrate. I will still be thankful. I will still remember.
I laugh at the funny guy in these pictures who was always my personal comedian. I celebrate the life we made together. I am thankful for the fifteen November 21sts that we did get to have together and that I was the girl he chose that night to make swoon with his silly magic tricks and funny jokes. I remember everything he was to me.
Today, eighteen years later I hold on to the love, not the loss.
