{via}
Here’s the thing about this love story of ours. It’s long. And drawn out. And mushy gushy. And even a bit cheesy. But it’s true. And I’ve decided to take my time writing it, capturing all the special details of those moments I never want to forget. So if mushy-gushy, cheesy love stories aren’t your thing, I totally get that. Just know that I’m writing this as a gift—to my family, and my children, and their children—and also, for Ben and me—so that on those days when the kids are screaming, the laundry is overflowing and the bills are rolling in…on those days when it all just seems so hard, we’ll have this to remind us of those first moments when we fell in love. And if sappy, detail ridden love stories are your thing, well then you’ve come to the right place. All previous chapters can be found here.
***
Friday Night:
Please call. Please call. Please call.
Only a few hours had passed since I wrote my number on his napkin,
and in that short time my phone had not left my side.
Rachel: So he finally asked you out?
Me: Yes, fiiiiiinally.
Rachel was my Summer time roommate. My best friend.
We had gone to high school together and shared nearly every single class.
But it wasn’t until our Senior year in high school and Freshman year of college that we created a real friendship.
The kind of friendship that had inside jokes.  The kind of friendship where you could go to the bathroom while talking on the phone with said friend.  The kind of friendship where you loved to see the other succeed, to see the other happy. Rachel was this kind of friend.
So naturally, I had been gushing all the details about the boy with dimples from day one.
Rachel: Do you know what you’re going to wear yet?
Me: I have noooo idea.
Rachel: Well, it all depends on where you guys are going and what you’ll be doing. Did he say where he was taking you?
Me: He said something about… “putt putt”.
Rachel: What in the world is “putt putt”?
Me: I have no idea, but I guess I’ll find out.
***
Saturday:
Friday night ended with no call.
So I slept with my phone under my pillow–ya know, just in case.
Still no call.
The next morning I went on my daily 3 mile run with cell phone in hand {I was disciplined back then}.
Still, no call.
I had cereal and Swiss Miss for breakfast.
No call.
Rachel and I headed down to State Street for a little afternoon shopping and lunch.
After meandering through all our favorite shops, we sat down at out favorite place to grab a slice of pizza.
Rachel: Nothing yet, huh?
Me: Nope, nada.
Rachel: He’ll call.
***
When I was in high school,
and it was the day of a big dance–like Homecoming or Prom,
I remember blocking out nearly the entire day to primp.
Not that it took me a whole day to get ready…
But I liked taking my time,
enjoying the process,
perfecting every element of the outfit.
And much like my time consuming process for important high school dances,
I had similar plans for my preparation for this date.
So at 6:00 pm on Saturday night,
when he still hadn’t called,
I naturally assumed there would be no date.
My hair was unwashed from my early morning run.
I was wearing sweats.
And I had on 2 day old mascara.
It wasn’t pretty.
So, of course, my phone rang.
And when I saw that it was an unrecognized number my heart started to beat in my face.
I took a deep breath.
Be cool Ashley. I reminded myself.
Me: Hello.
Ugh. That came across so valley girl. Oh well.
Ben: Ashley?
Me: Yep.
Ben: It’s me, Ben. I just wanted to see if you were busy later tonight. Maybe you wanted to hang out?
Okay, so he was one of those guys. The ones who doesn’t call until the last minute, and then doesn’t have intentions of starting the date until 9:00 at night. Well, I certainly wasn’t one of those girls. I liked advanced notice, planning, organization, and an early start to my evening–but for him…I would make the exception.
Me: Uh, yeah, sure.
Ben: Woah, don’t get too excited.
Me: I meant yes, definitely. I just need to get showered.
Ben: Okay, then how about we meet in 30 minutes. Will that give you enough time?
Thirty minutes!
Was he kidding me?
I didn’t even know what I was going to wear, I tasted like salty sweat and I had a pony tail crease in my hair.
Me: Thirty minutes will be plenty of time.
The words left my mouth before I could stop myself.
Ben: Great, let’s meet at the coaches offices on campus in 30, and then we’ll go from there.
Me: Sounds great. See you then.
And then I hung up.
Me: RACHEL!!! Start laying out outfit options pronto!
***
My hair was damp and my make up was natural. I wore my favorite Miss Sixty bell-bottom jeans with zippers in the back, a borrowed Abercrombie t-shirt from Rachel, a white Gap jean jacket, and my white platform Sketchers sneakers–an outfit I wouldn’t be caught dead in today.
Despite the rush, I was feeling pretty good about my attire that night.
I grabbed my American Eagle green canvas purse and headed for the door.
Rachel: Let me know how the first kiss goes.
Me: Rach, this is our first date…their won’t be a first kiss.
But I was wrong.
***
Thanks for reading Our Love Story so far.
I know I promised photos, but I was wrong–they are in the next post.
Stay tuned for Part 5…the first date.
