Some of you will recognize the following story — I penned it just months after 26PM and i were married in 2008, and published it on my old blog (Remember Xanga? That’s how we all rolled back in the day, ha ha!)
Anyway, I rediscovered these words again today, and realized that I never shared our love story on this blog.
So, here it is. The story of a love that spanned the distance between the Atlantic and Pacific. The story of two people who could not remain apart. The story of our lives.
once upon a time, he saw her. after church, playing football in the grass. she was barefoot. this is his first memory, but she did not notice.
she does not remember, except for the time he could not understand something she said and then she refused to speak.
[we were both sixteen. –yellowcard, ocean avenue]
well, seventeen, actually.
[they had lots of common friends. –dennison witmer, 24 turned 25]
the same church. the same ski slopes. the same junior college.
but they did not notice.
[you never even see me. you look right through me. –coldplay, shiver]
she remembers how he flew before he could drive, and how he drew color and life bursting from grey rubble. she told her mother he thought about things, deeply.
he did not know he was present in her mind.
she did not know she thought of him, even when she did.