The night I met you, fiance. I kept asking a mutual friend to make you come to a party. You took off work early to show up. You didn’t say much at first, but I couldn’t help think you had come to see me too, since our friend expressed my interest in meeting you. I showed you around the house, even though you had been to that house before. We stayed downstairs where it was quiet. You sat as close as you could get to me and I wanted to melt into you, but was cautious incase you had the wrong intentions. You didn’t. I was hooked. The best part of that night was talking to you about everything. And the fact that you asked me about myself and actually cared. Looking back, I can appreciate that more than you’ll ever know. Ten years later, you still place a hand on my back, an arm around my waist, or your knee to my knee whenever possible, and you take more of an interest than ever before. We’ve definitely had our bad times, but we’ve loved each other enough to make it over the mountains of issues and grow together. I can’t wait to call you my husband. And it’s all because of that night at that party. It was my best night, so far, though I’m sure we’ll top it soon.
Head Over Heels
Virginia
