Half-things.

Much like my friend Amanda, I've always been a stickler for remembering special dates. Ask me the birthdays of several friends from elementary school, and I can tell you that. And particular friends from high school? Got it. The dates I started working at each of my jobs- and the dates that I stopped working at them? Got it. But the anniversary of when my now-Husband and I first "officially" started dating? Beats me.

We had sort of an odd happening upon each other. We sort of half-dated for several years before ever actually officially dating each other. In fact, while we were not dating each other, we were dating other people, fairly seriously at times.

But somehow, some way, our semester schedules (including classes, homework, family and jobs) always worked out that our Wednesday nights were free. So, what to do, you ask? We started Wednesdays With Brown. It was our thing. We did it every week, without question, without fail, without reason. We didn't need a reason. We were best friends. Two people who were so overly busy with school, work, and life that we always made sure to get that special time in together once a week. It was rarely the only time we saw each other that week, but it was always the only time we saw each other without bookbags and homework in tow.

We went out to dinner, then snuck into movies. We'd park in the absolute farther parking space, eat an entire sleeve of Oreos, then make a mad dash to whatever we were doing. We'd run through the rain and sing and dance at the mall. We'd take funny pictures (hard to believe, I know). Sometimes, we'd just hang out at my apartment and try to cook. Inevitably, we'd end up eating candy or ice cream with brownies. We saran-wrapped friends' cars (though they wished we wouldn't) and walked around the dollar store.

We outwardly discussed the relationships we were in, and the hardships and trials that came with them. We could do this because it was a safe environment. It was a place that we could go and just.. be. We could vent and scream and laugh and cry and express the real pain and real joy that we couldn't show with others.

It was a time that we used to really live.

This regular Wednesday night occurrence began in 2008.

Before 2008, we were really just starting to get to know each other.

Let's jump back to summer 2006. June. A Florida girl who knows no one in the time zone arrives in Huntsville for her freshman college orientation. I met a few people, most of whom I don't talk to at all anymore. Some I look back on with fun memories- some I just look back on with funny nicknames they don't know about.

All the new freshman at the orientation were made to sit in a circle to play "You're my friend, if.." Simple game, really. One person stands in the middle of a circle of people sitting down, and says, "You're my friend if (insert something applicable to you)." Everyone who the statement applies to gets up and tries to find a new spot in the circle. The last person standing has to start with the statement again.

You know how when you're playing a game with 30-40 people you don't know, all you want to do is fit in? That didn't work for me.

"You're my friend if.. you're from Florida."

No one budges.

"You're my friend if.. you don't like chocolate."

No. One. Budges.

"You're my friend if.. you have shoelaces?"

Everyone gets up, of course, and I was mortified, feeling like moving to Alabama was the worst thing I could have ever done in my life, ever.

Husband was in this crowd, probably thinking to himself, "This girl's crazy."

Fast forward two months. August 13, 2006. Florida girl officially leaves Home, with two car-fulls of stuff, and 4 extra people to help drive the 14-hour drive, and unpack the cars and help me move in.

The first week in Huntsville was spent at what is essentially "Math Camp." Not really the way you want to start out your college years, but it turned out alright. I skipped a lot. I actually sat at the table that Husband's table kept telling to "shhhh!"

First week of being a real college student involved a lot of time being lost trying to navigate the campus, trying to figure out how college actually works, and meeting a million and one new people- daily.

Enter Husband. I remember this day. August 24, 2006.

We met in a lab. It was our MAE100 lab. It was Thursday. The class met Tuesdays and Thursdays in the morning and our lab session just happened to be right after the Thursday class. I walk in to this lab, after being seriously lost in the building for no less than 10 minutes (I'm pretty sure I was near tears, and worried about starving to death in this maze of hallways), wearing a Pink Floyd shirt, carrying a jacket (more to come on that later, possibly), hair down and purple.  I sit at a table and say to whoever would listen, "Well this sucks."

I looked up at the people at my table. A super skinny tall dude we'll call Chris (because it's his name), and Husband. Blonde American Eagle hair, button-down,  glasses over his sunflower-and-blue-eyes. A part of me, possibly visible, swooned. But alas, as the three of us talked more, we discovered Mr. Button-down was in a relationship, an had been for quite some time. I myself had just sort of started one with a person I met at orientation two months prior.

Dreams. Dashed.

Two weeks or so later, Chris told me a secret: "Mr. Blue Eyes said he's going to marry you someday." I said to Chris, "That's a little weird."

The three of us hung out and got to know each other pretty well. We were best friends. It was great. We'd get lunch and hang out and do homework. Of course, there's the fact that we were more or less bound together by our team-assigned MAE100 semester lab project- which turned out to be great fun.

Over the course of time, we all got closer and a sometimes little distant, depending on the semester and the situations. But one thing remained:  Mr. American Eagle Hair and I were always close- no farther than a phone call- always ready to be there on a moments' notice, ready to fight whoever caused the other pain. Always.

 

Mr. American Eagle Hair and I, in my dorm room in 2006.

Then begins the summer 2007. I went on a Study Abroad trip to Europe for two weeks. There were no "real" ties between Ol' Glasses and I except our deep, true friendship. I sent him post cards from Europe, each one signed "Love." Never thought about it.

 

Fuzzy picture from the week before Thanksgiving in 2007.

Another year passes. I moved into my first apartment- I like to call this the Ghetto Apartment. Ghetto it is, and probably my favorite nonetheless. The life lived there was amazing. Busy, with full time school, working on campus and at a restaurant, being in a relationship (nope, not with Husband, sadly), and trying to see my family in Florida. We made due. Wednesdays with Brown began in early Spring.

 

Mr. Pebbles, the cuter version, in Ghetto Apartment

in 2008. Wearing my bracelet mind you.

2009 brought three new living accommodations and a million and one huge changes.

Skipping the gory details, this is the year- sometime in July (5th? 6th?)- that Husband and I finally decided to make what we had real. We officially became us. Finally. After six months of excitement, a few trips here and there, many nights up late doing homework (no kidding) and general merriment, Pre-Husband became Husband-To-Be when he proposed on December 31, 2009. Another date I can remember.

 

Chattanooga, 2009

I guess I wrote this post to celebrate how much I love and appreciate the route that Husband and I took to get where we are. I think the time we spent really getting to know each other as people and individuals really helps us in our marriage. We really knew each other before we dated, and I think our open relationship really taught us who the other is. We learned each other's insecurities, habits, what makes the other tick, how to argue and how to really enjoy each other.

Today, only slightly three and a half years after we officially started dating (truly, February is actually 3 years and 7 months, but I'm close!), we're still together, and still best friends.

Another half-celebration? February 24 really is the six-years-and-six-month anniversary of when we first met, back in the MAE100L. Back when I had the purple hair and the Pink Floyd shirt.

 

Us from the weekend before Christmas, 2012.