This week has been hectic, but so exciting at the same time. Monday was the first of what I'm sure will be many, many late afternoon Texas thunderstorms. For anyone out there who has never experienced Texas in the springtime, let me just say that "random," does not begin to describe the weather. Here's the outline of the week so far (keep in mind it is currently Wednesday morning):
Sunday afternoon: cloudy, humid not really raining
Monday morning: rain of the steady, annoying drizzle variety
Monday afternoon: little rain
Monday 5 p.m.: HUGE thunderstorm of the green sky, park your car away from trees variety
Monday night: still storming
Tuesday morning: bright, sunny and beautiful
Wednesday 7 a.m.: sunny and gorgeously warm
Wednesday 9 a.m.: overcast and somewhat chilly
I hate not knowing what to wear for the day when I leave my house in the morning. Yesterday was Tuesday. Tuesdays usually suck, but the weather was so beautiful, I couldn't help but be in a good mood. I put on a pair of black patent pumps with black capris and headed out the door. I had leftovers for dinner, but the spaghetti and meatballs were still SO good! I got an A+ on a paper for my Women's Studies class and this morning confirmed a job for the summer so I get to stay in town, take classes and work. This summer will be so much fun!
As a result of all of this good news, I've decided to make celebratory food. Celebration meals are commonplace in my world. My mom has always made us birthday breakfast of whatever we wanted, all our family celebrations revolve around food and this year for mine and Caine's second anniversary, I made my first ever chicken pot pie. That was a very special night. (No this blog is not about to contain adult content.) All Caine's roommates (at our request) left for the evening, so we could spend some time together. I got to make my sweet boyfriend dinner and sit in candlelight and talk about where we've been and where we're going together.
Now I feel the need to tell a story unrelated to food.
I was eighteen. I was struggling with things most eighteen year-old girls struggle with in their first year of college, but I also was working on forgiving myself and forgiving others. Letting go of what's hurt you is never easy and cutting ties with those who hurt you is even harder. Thursday, January 17, 2008 my girlfriends and I decided to go out to a country club a couple towns over and go dancing. I was itching to flirt with a boy, but I couldn't think of any that I would actually want to come with us, then one came to mind. His name was Caine. We had met the semester before through a mutual friend that I played tennis with. The details of the encounter were blurry, but I remember thinking how cute he was and how his smile made my head spin a little. So, I texted Caine and asked him to come dancing with us because we needed more boys to come. He declined because of his 6 a.m. baseball practice the next morning, but he asked if he could make it up to me by taking me to a movie the next night. So we agreed that we would go to the movies. Now at a normal college, this would be no big deal, but I go to a Baptist bubble, so everyone that heard about it wanted to know if he was "pursuing" me, to which my response was "I hope he's not because that makes him my stalker." Even with all of the mutual friends between us pressuring us into labeling the outing a "date" both Caine and I were convinced that we were just two people hanging out on a Friday night. We went to see "P.S. I Love You" (his suggestion not mine) on Friday, January 18. Very little about the date was typical. We weren't sure if we wanted to go eat or not, but the movie was supposed to start at 8 ish. We ended up going to a later show, because we spontaneously decided to eat at this little place called The Ranch on our way to the theater. When we got there, Caine picked another movie time, which would become the trademark of our relationship. When we got back to campus from the movie, we sat in the lobby and flirted and talked until 2 a.m. The conversation was never awkward, stagnant or forced. It was the best date I have ever been on. We swapped stories and self-disclosures all night. I have never felt so comfortable with someone.
I saw Caine every day that semester except for Spring Break and one weekend I went home without him. He quickly became my best friend, and I haven't looked back since. There wasn't really a moment when I fell in love with him, but a lot of little instants when I realized that I cared about him. Whether it was a bad day on the baseball field, or a tough test or a disagreement with his roommate, I wanted to be there for him. I wanted to talk with him, pray with him and listen to him. He was there for me too. When my friends drifted away that semester, he was there. When I struggled with my class load, he was there. When I needed just to laugh, his sense of humor brightened my day. When I think back on the way it all started, I can hardly believe it. We've grown up so much since then. My mother once told me that when God was ready to put someone in my life, it would be when I was least looking for someone. Was she ever right! I'm thankful every day for my best friend, and that even when I burn the dinner, even when I'm cranky, even when my best efforts fall short, he loves me for who I am not what I am and his smile still makes my head spin.
P.S. Making ravioli casserole tonight and will write about its success or failure tomorrow!
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