When you suggested we take a walk (alone) down to the Grotto seven years ago today, I’m guessing you didn’t think that you’d be spending the rest of our lives together.
When you offered me your arm as we walked down an icy slope “because you saw Indiana Jones do it once,” I’m sure you had no idea how many opportunities for chivalry were lying ahead.
When we sat there in the cold night, neither of us thought that we’d be sitting next to each other on the couch every night. (Or that I’d still be cold. Always cold.)
When we both knew what you were about to say, I don’t think either of us guessed that we’d be finishing each other’s sentences but still not be out of things to talk about.
When you told me that we try dating for a while, but you weren’t sure how long it might last, I’m sure you weren’t anticipating the day when we’d make vows to each other, or even later when you’d wake up early in the morning to feel our baby moving around.
When I asked if maybe this meant that we should get lunch or something together sometime, I didn’t think we’d be cooking dinner for each other every night.
So anyway, when I teared up just a little last night, it was only because I feel like the luckiest, most blessed girl in the world. Thanks for asking me out.
PS – I’m glad we decided to hold hands eventually.