a story of falling in love

I've been going back and forth on whether or not I should post this on my blog, but I've finally decided I want to share it because it's one of my favorite things that I've written (wrote it about 4 years ago). It's the story of how my husband and I fell in love.

          We came to a fork in the trail – “two roads diverged in a yellow wood” – and Ben and I took to the one less traveled by.

          Down the mountain from that glorious view we walked, and I should’ve known it then. I should’ve known what I came to realize while washing dishes months later that on his broad chest and in his strong arms and deep eyes was where I belonged. When we stomped down that trail and huddled together in the rain is when it should’ve hit me. Or in the back of the van, or in that McDonald’s or the Opryland Hotel, or even in the Projects, when I felt a gravitational pull to the hollow between his shoulders, a place where my body would fit perfectly. Or maybe when I saw him hold the children and all I wanted to do was climb over the back seat and underneath the blanket be held too.

          I should’ve known it when we walked the streets of Atlanta, or even sword fought in that restaurant, or when we talked about music and then sat together in understanding silence. I should’ve known it all along, and I think somewhere, I did. I think I knew it when he wrote me to say it was great to see me again, and when he said he’d be a little off after three days without speaking to me. Because I think I knew I would be just a little off too. I think I knew when he took a picture of that broken leaf, and when we sat in that Taco Bell and it was like we’d never been apart. I’m pretty sure I knew it when we watched that silly movie and all I could think about was how our shoulders lightly brushed and how I wished we’d touch some more.

          But I know I knew it when I sat in his lap and he told me we were made of the same things, and the same things that move him move me. And I’m sure I knew it when I wasn’t afraid to be the first one to say it: “I love you.”