The Story of Us, Part 1

I never expected to meet the man I would spend my life with when I was just 15 years old.  But that’s exactly what happened.  In 10 days, Derek and I will celebrate our 10th anniversary.  (and another random little fun fact…on March 5, 2011, I will have spent exactly half of my life with Derek.  Fun, huh!  Who knew there were calculators on the internet to calculate such crazy things?!)

I’ve been thinking for awhile that it would be fun to write down our story, and now seems like as good as time as any.

We met the summer of 1995, just after he graduated high school and before I started my sophomore year.  I probably should have known who he was, but I really didn’t.  I knew his younger brother and sister, and he knew my older brother.  We were just far enough apart in age that our paths never really crossed each other until that summer.  We both signed up to go on our church’s youth group mission trip.  Ironically, he signed up because a girl he liked was going.  And I’d like to say that I signed up for nobler reasons, but really it was because all my friends were going.

I really don’t even remember meeting him until we actually left for the trip, which seems impossible because I know there were meetings and things before it was time to leave.  I was just so in my own 15 year old world, caught up with my friends and the drama of teenage life that I never noticed him.  As we pulled out of the church parking lot in the 15 passenger van, I very loudly stated that I was going to need some entertainment if I was going to make it through the 5 hour drive to San Antonio.  “Megan”, he said, “you are the entertainment.”  Those were the first words he ever spoke to me.

Once we were in San Antonio, we started hanging out more and more.  We were paired up several times to hand out flyers, and spent most of the week talking and flirting.  I think most everyone on that trip noticed there was something going on between us.  By the time the mission trip was over, I had the biggest crush on him and thought he was just about the greatest person ever.  But I figured there was no way it would ever amount to anything besides a summer crush.  For one thing, guys just didn’t notice me in that way.  I’d never even been on a date much less had a boyfriend.  I was always that girl who was friends with the guys, but nothing more.

Once we got back home, we almost immediately left town again to work as counselors for a week at church camp.  During the week,  I tried so hard to pretend I didn’t like him and pretend that I wasn’t going out of my way to run into him or take a picture of him, but I’m sure I was completely transparent.  Fifteen year old girls with huge crushes aren’t really known for keeping it under wraps.  I got to ride with him to camp and back home, which I loved every second of.  Except for the moment on the way home when I propped my feet up on the dashboard and the smell of my stinky feet filled the car.  Note to self: make sure and pack enough socks for the week at camp.  It’s never good to have to wear the same pair more than once.  But my stinky feet didn’t scare him away.  I’m pretty sure he just thought it was funny.  Gross…but funny.  I mean, one way that we flirted with each other was to burp and blow it in each others face.  Burping and stinky feet…this is how it all started.

Once we got back home, he asked me to go on our first official date.  We went to eat at Spaghetti Warehouse and to see the movie Nine Months.  I can still remember exactly what I wore, and how he made me feel so special and so beautiful.  I can still remember how my palms started sweating when he reached out and held my hand in the movie theater, and how my heart raced at the end of the date when he sweetly asked if he could kiss me…