Happy 6 Years

[Silliness at the Louvre, circa May 2007]

Today marks the 6 year anniversary of us as a couple. Sometimes, I stop and think about how it feels like just yesterday. But really, when I flashback through all 6 years, reality tells me, wow, a lot has changed since 2002. You used to own four pairs of black loafers and not pluck your eyebrows. A LOT has changed.

The Scene: Friday the 13th, Wheeler Hall Auditorium, the University of California, Berkeley

I was sick. We're talking "I have pink eye and I am sneezing everywhere and I just saw the doctor please don't touch me" kind of sick. It was my second year at Berkeley, and I was, like I was for most of my late teens and early twenties, really moody and dramatic. It was Friday night, and after complaining to my friend about how miserable I felt, he suggested I join him and his friends to watch Evil Dead II on campus. It was, of course, Friday the 13th, so it was a nice night to watch Bruce Campbell spray tons of blood everywhere. So I went, with hopes that it'd lift my spirits after having a not so spectacular day/week/month/year. I even remember what I wore: a green zip up cardigan, jeans, and *drum roll please* black loafers. I was also wearing my Buddy Holly/Weezer glasses because like I mentioned earlier, I had pink eye.

For those of you who do not know what Evil Dead II, Bruce Campbell, or zombies are, please click here.

Because we're all geeks, we wanted the BEST SEATS EVER so we got to the auditorium really, really early. Since I've spent plenty of time in movie lines (Harry Potter and Star Wars, cough cough,) and concert lines (too many to list here,) I was pretty content sitting on the steps and chatting. We would be chatting for at least an hour. Maybe two. Maybe three? I don't remember this part very well.

A little while after we got there, two guys were walking through the lobby, and came over to us. One of them started talking to my friend, because they knew each other from a class.

And the other one just stood there, sort of blankly looking at all of us and looking mildly bored. He had a clean-cut look and was wearing a fleece jacket, and when I got a closer look at his round face, I noticed he had a small dimple on his cheek. "Hi--what's your name?" I said really, really loudly, because when I'm curious about people I want to get to know, I find the need to act really, really interested.

He looked down at me (I was sitting on the steps, he was standing,) and said, in quite possibly the most adorable voice ever, "Hi. I'm K----. What's your name?" He reached out to shake my hand, and I reached out mine, and then quickly jerked it back and exclaimed "OH! Wait! I shouldn't shake your hand, I have pink eye!"

Did I mention I'm a really awkward person?

He looked a little confused but sort of mumbled, "Oh, um, okay. What was your name again?"
I yelled out my name, which, by the way, always trips people up, and he leaned down, and said "Sorry, could you repeat that?" At which point I started listing things my name rhymed with. I'm a charmer, aren't I?

We probably only talked on those steps for 20 minutes, but I could immediately tell there was something different about this boy. I hadn't met many people who could come close to how gentle and soft spoken he was, and while we were talking, I could tell he was actually paying attention to what I was saying and actually processing it--unlike some vapid conversations you have at really boring parties, and you know exactly what I mean.

He also kept leaning down to hear what I was saying, which I thought was adorable, just like his dimple. He walked out of the auditorium, and the only thing I knew was his first name. But when I went back home that night, all I could talk about was the boy I met that night at Evil Dead II. In order to mask my own interest in him, I told my cousin, "I found the perfect boy for you" just as excuse to keep talking about him. She doesn't hold it against me today. ;)

Happy 6 years, K---we've come a long way.