The first week of sophomore year began average; new classes and new people. Being placed in seats that were meant to encourage mingling, but were always awkward. The classes progressed all the same pattern of sit down, attendance, and work time. The day we started something new in science, was the day the only friend I had was absent. I was anxious to try and understand the work as well as connect with the strange people around me. The tall boy from the table in the middle of the room had no one to work with and was told to pick any group. I had noticed him since day one and wondered who he would choose to sit with. My heartbeat quickened as he walked in my direction and sat down across from me. As the class progressed we continued to smile and laugh together, making occasional jokes that only we seemed to understand. I walked out of the class and turned around to yell "See ya" to him. At that moment my stomach was filled with butterflies. The next day we met up at the Hawaiian-themed football game and spent the entire game talking and laughing. I had never felt so safe like I could talk to someone for hours on end. We spent the night texting about the most random and deep topics. My feelings grew but a wall stayed up blocking the past from seeping into my future.
After a week of constant hanging out, making long-lasting inside jokes, and nonstop talking, he asked me to make it official. From the months of fighting for a simple title, I was given it without a second thought. I started my dating life by trying to convince myself that I didn't really need to be called someone's girlfriend and realized when it was too late that my needs are just as important. I have always been a romantic in a somewhat cheesy way, and the summer prior, I was told that my idea of a strong and balanced relationship with communication and respect for the need to see them often were unrealistic and not practical. As the days went on I found myself surprised at the small things that made me feel overwhelmingly special, whether it was opening any door or holding my hand when he knew I was stressed. Being someone's girlfriend was not only about caring for another but allowing myself to be cared for. He began to carve away at the protective wall and allow me to be utterly myself. My whole life I had always felt emotions more deeply than those around me and when I knew I loved him it took some serious restraint to not blurt it out. The day when I really opened up to him and let him help me with my anxiety, he told me he loved me. I had been immensely overwhelmed with school and the workload. He chose a moment when I was at my lowest and made my heart feel like it was bursting at the seams.
When Christmas rolled around I compiled all the ideas for a meaningful gift but it had to be something that wasn't too much. My hopes were somewhat high, though I would appreciate anything he gave me. The night of Christmas he walked through my front door in his usual grey t-shirt and black athletic shorts with beat-up black sneakers, holding sunflowers, my favorite. I had mentioned them once and he remembered. Along with the flowers he gave me a dainty sterling silver "T" pendant for his initial. I had always worn a necklace with numerous charms from different places and the fact that I had one to add from him left me speechless. All I could say was "Oh my goodness, I love you" and "Thank you so much". Every anniversary along with a special gift, he always brought me flowers.
There's a saying that diamonds are a girl's best friend, but for me it's flowers.
I had always been a very outdoorsy kid, always wanting to know more about the trees, plants, and flowers around me. He wanted to plan for summer hikes and walking miles to be in nature. This was the first time someone else was as passionate about nature as me and wanted to explore on hikes and picnics. I remember hikes I took during countless Audubon camps I attended, always excited to discover the wonders living in the leaves of the trees and the sounds of the woodpeckers chipping away at the birch bark creating tiny intricate holes. Nature had always been a safe haven for me and now I had someone to share it with. The flowers were the beginning of finally feeling heard and that my needs were legitimately reasonable.
Growing up I had always had a pretty solid example of a long-term relationship. I was taught how I should be treated. My parents constantly were open and honest to me about their relationship, never hiding the ups and downs. I looked up to them and felt comfortable asking questions and getting advice from them about guys. My older sister suffered through the jerks and douchebags in high school and college until she found her person. She never kept the truth from me and answered my questions no matter what. When I was told that all the things I had grown up hearing and seeing were, "too much" or not important, I felt a mix of emotions. I was confused as to why everything I knew was deemed wrong and was constantly told that I was inexperienced and this was just how teenage relationships were. After months of trying to compromise and be heard, I realized that what was happening was toxic. I was being manipulated into thinking my experiences were not valuable and that I knew nothing. Moving on and away from this I had to be more cautious that maybe this would happen again. Maybe I would be hurt again, but I tried to not let the idea of "maybe" tear me down. At the beginning of my relationship, I had a voice in my head telling me that any conflict would send him flying. Instead of letting this fear consume me, I confessed this fear to him and accepted his reaction would determine how I would move forward. To my relief, he shared the same fear and we took the time to really understand each other's feelings. We determined any conflict would be resolved calmly and with space to be heard. I felt truly vulnerable and undeniably understood.
Anytime I expressed an interest he found any way to allow me to grow. I was given a camera from my brother who was an avid photographer, and I took to it quickly. I never knew the name for things, but through trial and error, I worked to capture somewhat decent images. He knew this and helped me find any opportunity to expose myself to photography. When I decided to write a volleyball article in journalism class, he took it upon himself to ask his coach if I could take pictures for the article. His coach agreed and he took it one step further and inquired about me being the official men's volleyball photographer. To my complete surprise, his coach was overjoyed with the idea. That season I was welcomed into the team, I made new friends and at the end, I was recognized for my hard work and carefully taken pictures. He molded a hobby into a passion.
I used to struggle with ways to release anger and overflowing anxiety. I turned to him for help and I asked if I could accompany him to the gym one of the times he went to see if that was the answer. I was clueless to the machines and weights, but I knew I needed to try. He took me to the section of blue benches facing the large gym mirror. We started off with simple things like small weighted curls and different easy machines. This became a frequent ritual, anytime he went to work out I came with. I observed the people around me and let my mind focus on my body rather than my anxiety. As I kept going and trying to find the things that I could channel everything into. I found peace in sliding the rubber-coated iron plates onto the cold steel squat bar and gliding the metal clamps locking the weight in place, pushing myself, and quickly meeting the goals I thought were unreachable. I expanded the parts of my body I would focus on and continued to find quietude in the noise. Lifting weights and immersing in an environment where I could use my strength to release the angst built up in me. Anytime I was unsure or intimidated by an exercise, he would show me exactly what to do and spot me to make me feel safe.
One night after a particularly challenging workout, he drove me home and as usual, walked me to my front door. I expected to get a hug and just say goodbye to him, but he had a different plan. As we walked up the steps to the front stoop, he stopped for a second and stood looking at me. I smiled and wondered what was going on, and to my surprise, he pulled me in for a kiss. He decided to show me how much he loved me despite my incredibly sweaty appearance. I knew from that moment that I would be safe and loved unconditionally by him. I walked into my house with the biggest smile on my face and my parents took note of it. I told them everything and all they could do was say "Aww." After this, he slowly became a part of my family. My parents saw his effect on me and how undeniably happy I was, so they took any chance to include him in family events. I had countless discussions with them about how happy I was and they were elated and called my relationship "one in a million." That is always how I felt, this was truly something special and unbreakable.
I believe that he helped me see myself better and learn to take a new outlook on the world around me. One of the first things I learned about him is that he is colorblind. It is the most extraordinary thing and I always asked him how he saw the world. Later on, we learned together that I have a different sense of taste that eliminates sour and bitter from my palette. To quote Edward Cullen, "It's an extraordinary thing to meet someone who you can bare your soul to." We both have something that affects our outlooks but combined we are able to see clearly for the first time.