The Moment I Knew I Was in Love

The moment I knew I was in love? That's hard. You see, I have so many little moments like that... and all together, like a puzzle, they somehow fit into this beautiful, messy, sappy sort of a story. It started so many years ago, and hasn't really stopped yet. Someone asked me, when was the moment I fell in love? But I suppose in order to answer that question, I'd have to start from the beginning until the puzzle is complete.

A long, long time ago, I once was in something called... middle school. Middle school was this super awesome, fun place. Especially since I was homeschooled. One day of the week, though, on Mondays I believe, I would attend a co-op for homeschoolers, and I got to see all of my friends. It was great. It was the best. Luke (a super cute boy!) went to that school, and he smelled good, and he was crazy. Like, he was super crazy. Kick a soccer ball at my face, and eat all of the science experiments crazy (even the baking soda and vinegar one!). Once, he took some moldy bread from school home in a jar and kept it for years. He was just so daring, and I thought, "Wow! This boy!" I always tried to maneuver myself so that way I could sit next to him in science class, crossing my fingers he'd notice me, the frizzy haired girl with braces.

Our parents were old friends, so we'd go out to eat with their family sometimes, and it was always the best. I'd always stick crayons in his drink. I thought I was just so clever. I invited him to my 13th birthday party, and smeared mud all over his shirt (the one he had to wear to church that night. Oops) because he kept hitting me with a plastic bat. It hurt. I think we thought we were flirting or something. Then, the next year, I invited him to my birthday party again. Just him and his family, actually. We decided we were going to try out this game my family invented, "sock wars." You pretty much just throw socks at each other and get out if you get hit by one. We ended up making a rule that at the start of each round your whole team had to touch a single chair before you could run off. He had the idea that we should hold hands and make a chain, to get farther away from the chair while kind of technically (not, the cheaters we were) still touching it. I got to hold HIS hand. It was the biggest deal. My heart was like *angels singing* "The cutest boy at school is holding your hand!" I pretty much thought he was in love with me. He says he was. I think that's when I really started to fall for him.

Flash forward three months. I moved away to Florida. My little fourteen year old heart was broken up over leaving my middle school crush behind in Alabama. But, thanks to a little help from his mom, we got each other's numbers, and that changed everything. I would lay in bed at night and think so hard of excuses of why I needed to text him. For example, our families both traded Disney pins, and since we now lived in Florida, I could help look for ones they needed to add to their collection! So necessary, right? But it worked. We started texting, then we started texting more, and then we started texting 24/7. Literally. He completely stole my heart then. He told me I was beautiful, and called me nicknames, and stood up for me when I needed him the most. I would screenshot all of the cute messages he would send me, just so I could read them over and over again. Later on, we held hands for the first time, in Disney World of all places, when I was scared of a ride. Then he told me he loved me. And then, I kissed him. I actually kissed him first. Who knew I had it in me?

The rest is history. He's surprised me at the airport, and shown up at the Starbucks down the road from my house, when he lived 11 hours away. He's brought me flowers, and learned what my go-to Starbucks is, and has held me as I've cried like a baby. So, after it all, I'd say that now, every day is just another collection of little moments that have made me fall in love all over again.