Additional Elements Ideas

To further the story, I could create a slideshow with photos of the two of us on dates and at our high school. It would include dressed-up photos and everyday photos as well. I wouldn't, in reality, put this on a blog, however, as I would be loathe for someone to look us up on the internet. I know internet security and personal information and pictures in general are pretty nonexistent, but I prefer to keep the little that I have left.

I could also give his side of the story of our first date at Outback in a separate blog post, which would be cute. He could write it in the same way so readers could get both sides of the table that night.

The best decision I could have made in my High School years

Only the radiance of his smile overpowered the brilliant red of his sweater. There was nowhere I would have rather been than sitting across from him at the Outback Steakhouse that night. Our conversation was wonderfully different. We were away from class and the crowded halls of our high school where everyone stood, often making jokes at our expense.

This was private and personal.

Though in a crowded restaurant, we felt isolated. We sat at an island booth floating in the white noise waves of others’ distant background conversations. So focused on the bright light hitting his face from above just so, and the occasional glint being reflected in his brown eyes, I found nothing of importance outside of our two beating hearts, haloed in the light and perfumed by the kitchens. Everything smelled faintly of grill-seared steak and the leather of boots and jackets.

It was Valentine’s Day, and the night was cold.

He taught me how to curl long noodles on my fork, and even though I kept messing up and ended up cutting most of my pasta, he grinned like a gold medalist. How he smiled at me. I thought by the end of the night my face could crack like tested glass and shatter into several irreparable pieces should I change my expression. I was smiling so hard and for so long that my face muscles learned they were unused to being so happy.

Our waiter came by about six or seven times. “Would you like anything else? Here is our dessert menu,” he said, asking us in various kindly ways if we would like to either order something else or clear out. We even received coupons for our very pointed “next visit”.

We were seated at the restaurant for two and a half hours.

We didn’t want the night to be over, so when he finally answered his mom’s phone calls, we left with her and his younger sister, only to drive one shopping center over for dessert at Chik-fil-a. There we also met his older sister, her husband, and their daughter. It was nearly overwhelming to accidentally meet almost all of his immediate family on our first date, but this didn’t affect the night’s outcome.

“I had a really good time,” I told him when we finally had to part ways, as we shared a hug while my mother looked on. We wouldn’t share our first kiss for another year. I had sworn that I was not going to have my first kiss while burdened with braces. It was going to be better than that, and it eventually was. He was warm and gentle and smelled just like his worn oversized jacket, which he always gave me to wear in class, sometimes sneaking into the inside pockets my favorite candy and chocolates.

Thankfully, he was as patient and gracious through our first few years together as he was the day he tried to teach me to twirl my pasta, and remains so to this day. He waited years for me, and followed after whenever I ran off on some ill-advised high school pursuit. He cautioned without restraining, and encouraged me to make and follow my own choices instead of blindly following in those of others.

“Be yourself. I love you for you,” he would say.  

JT is a fitting name for him. It is short for Jeffery Thomas, and the name Jeffery means “peace”. He brought peace into my life. JT is the sun to my moon and every day I thank God that he is in my life. If I ever begin to slip into monotony or take for granted his involvement in my life, I think back to our first date and all of the dates that followed. I recall all of the roses, little love notes in my high school locker, dates at Panda Express, the look in his eyes when he laughs, his steady heartbeat, the days he helps me put up art shows, the scent and texture of his gently curled hair, and long texts and even longer talks that kept us up at night.

I remember that I am loved. 

Map of hometown - Roswell