Nearly nine years ago, I met the man I would marry.
The man who would stay at my grandparents house working through the night on his college homework so that the daylight would be ours.
The man who would talk to me on AIM long after bed time.
The one who would visit my family and me in the country and observe the stars.
The man that I got in trouble over the very night I met him.
You see, I was in high school when I met Dustyn. He was in the beginning stages of his college endeavor. My small little high school, where I graduated with a whopping 23 students, didn’t have a football team. My best friend, Leslie, was dating a guy in the neighboring town. He was their star quarterback. It became part of our lives to play our basketball games on Friday night then drive to wherever they were playing to catch whatever we could of the game. Especially when they made the play-offs. Unbeknownst to me, at their very last game of the season… the semi-final game before state… I would meet Dustyn. I took a seat in the stands next to Leslie, and Dustyn sat next to her. (I should mention that he sat next to her because her boyfriend was his brother.)
At the time, I was trying to kindly let down another guy who had a crush on me so I talked to Leslie and Dustyn. A lot. (I wasn’t the kind of girl who had dated a lot or the kind who was used to someone actively pursuing me.) The first half of the game came and went. During halftime, the other guy was supposed to talk to me. The conversation didn’t really go well and I turned my attention to Dustyn as Leslie had left to go say hello to other friends. I remember her return. She asked how it went with the other guy. I told her it didn’t go well, and I mentioned that my interest was spiked by Dustyn. She clapped her hands in the excitedly.
To say that I don’t remember much about the second half of the game is an understatement. Leslie and Derryk remember all the details of that game, but my attention was so focused on learning more about Dustyn that I mostly remember that they lost. My parents tried calling me to return to where they were sitting because they didn’t want me to get lost in the rush of people after the game. I pushed for more time. In fact, I ignored their requests and scampered out of the stands as late as I could. I didn’t get his number. He didn’t ask for mine. I remember walking down the stairs and turning the corner to look back up at him. Maybe if he looked back up at me, then I would know there was a spark. That he felt it too.
I glanced back up. My heart sank. His attention was focused on the field. I sulked all the way back to the car and along the drive from Houston to Dime Box.
About a week later, I was folding clothes at my house and working on regular household duties. I answered, though technically I was grounded from talking on the phone as my punishment for being late at the game, and it was Leslie. She sneakily found a way to get Dustyn on the phone and we arranged our very first date.
I should mention that Dustyn says he did look down to watch me leave. I suppose our timing was just off and as I looked up to glance at him one last time, he had just looked away. Over time I’ll share more of our story with you. Today, we celebrate six years of marriage. Yippie! Dustyn, I love you.
I’m sharing a portrait of Dustyn’s grandparents with you. They’ve been married for over sixty years and they’re just as cute as ever. On the vacation we recently went on with Dustyn’s family, they still held hands and bantered like twenty-year olds. I’m praying for this kind of long, sustainable love, marriage, and friendship.
This is a recent portrait of us, taken by my sister-in-law Leslie. (Did you catch that? My high school best friend is now my sister-in-law.)
Clearly Dustyn and I still have trouble looking at the same spot at the same time. I have no idea where his attention is focused in this picture.
by Magan
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