Year Six: Our Story

Today, February 14th, is our six-year anniversary. Yes. Six years, seventy-two months, 312 weeks, 2,190 days.

People have been asking me about us a lot lately. I’m not sure why. How we met. How we’re still dating. How we survive being so far apart these days. So I tell them.

We met in the eighth grade, 2012. We had the same English class. Your best friend had a crush on my best friend, my best friend liked you. Somehow you and I concocted the same idea to wingman for our besties at a school dance. You were trying to help your best friend out and I mine. As that night grew on, your focus shifted to me for some reason. I’ll never really know why. I was skinny, had pink hair, and wore braces. I even had another boyfriend at the time. But you didn’t mind. You sat with me while I played a dumb game on my phone. We sang, we danced, we had a great time. Three days later, my best friend didn’t like you as much. Don’t worry, I checked.

I remember that you’d come up with excuses to come talk to me before class. You’d stand there, looking over my shoulder, and I would hold my breath. Plenty of other, prettier girls would flirt with you. I was sure I never had a chance. Our little flirtationship developed until I was head over heels.

I was on the dance team in middle school, you know that. You were in the TSA. Somehow, we both stayed after school one day. The dance team had to change into our practice clothes before practice. I was walking down the hall having just done so. You were in a classroom and saw me. You ran out of the classroom and called me name. You walked with me for as long as you could and concluded that walk with our first hug. I don’t know if you remember this, but it’s one of my favorite memories.

You waited months to ask me out. I had almost lost hope. On Valentine’s Day, you found me before class. You gave me a pink rose and asked me to be your girlfriend. There was a crowd around us. I’m sure I turned more pink than the rose. It’s been my favorite flower ever since.

We dated through high school, making you my high school sweetheart. You supported me through SO many things. Getting bangs, doing makeup, joining the dance team, quitting the dance team, starting ballet and pointe. You even let me arrange our class schedules so we had nearly every class together. You supported my choice in colleges somehow. You told everyone how I was the valedictorian.

In fact, we’re still dating. 2019. Your support has been unrelenting. We’ve been through some crap. And this distance hasn’t done us any favors. There was even a few rough months last year when I thought I had lost you. I love you more than I ever have.

People ask me if I want to marry you. I do. I’d love to bake breads and desserts for you every day. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve already been inviting people to our wedding. You would be proud of how many friends I’ve made here.

Don’t get me wrong. You can work my nerves. You can get under my skin worse than any other person on the planet. And I know I push your buttons, too. But in the same breath, you know how to fix all of my problems. You are home, you’re safe. You know exactly what to say and when I need to hear it. In a way, I’m grateful for those few terrible months that we had last year. If I hadn’t come so close to losing you, I probably wouldn’t be able to appreciate you the way I do now.

And I think that’s the secret. It would be so easy to take you for granted, especially considering how long you’ve been in my life. But I don’t want to take you for granted. I treasure every second we get together, every text from you, every phone call. I love every interest we share and don’t share. I love that when I started this blog, you made an account called “bakersrighthand” so you can read everything I type. I love learning new things about you. I love that you don’t hate me for putting this distance between us. I love that you encourage me to better myself. I love that you embrace my hobbies, especially the baking. I love that you can be so thoughtful. I love that you know my flaws and accept them. I love that you call me beautiful every day and that you tell me how much you love me. You have a seemingly unlimited amount of faith in me. You keep me grounded and on cloud nine at the same time.

I can’t thank you enough for sticking around. I love you. Happy anniversary.

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