This boy.

And this girl.

Met around this awkward age.

She noticed his green (yes, green tennis shoes).

And he noticed her sweet glasses.

And they grew up friends.

Then, he went here.

And, she went here.

And eventually a group of college punks went on a magical spring break here. Ugh, I know.

And the romance began (they’ll be telling their kids that they met in Youth Group at Church, thank ya very much).

A way down the road, he popped the question.

And then, this.

At which point, she decided to officially adopt his first baby as her own.

And then, they committed to a real ding dong for better or worse.

A few years later, they made this.

Today is not my anniversary. It is not my guy’s birthday.

It is just a Thursday.

And like every other Thursday for the past twelve plus years, this boy is on my mind.

He still makes me weak in the knees.

He still makes me laugh harder than anyone else I know.

He still takes me on dates and pursues me.

He makes me feel special. And loved. And important.

Sigh, I just love him.

That’s all.