I+I: A LOVE STORY - This Wild Home

This is the story of how I met my husband: I often wonder how to even begin this story.

It wasn’t love at first sight or a tale of long lost love. We never really interacted with each other based on attraction or “desire” per say. Being together now, I realize it was what the universe had in store for us, but I can honestly say we didn’t make a point to wind up together.

In short, we never felt a longing for each other.

We weren’t best friends that were bound to be together. Most of the time we knew each other he was just the friend of my high school boyfriend and I was just the girlfriend of his friend. I guess it’s a difficult story to tell because there were never clear moments that brought us to this point. It was mostly thoughts and feelings that made us realize what we wanted. It’s like there was a magnetic pull that kept us in the right situations to make this happen when it was time to happen. Casual conversations would leave us walking away thinking, “This is the kind of person I want to be with.” Seeing interactions of each other with our high school sweet hearts would make us think, “I’d like my current significant other to be more like that.”  From 2007 – 2013, all we had were brief moments that consisted of friendly, surface level interactions.

It wasn’t until the end of 2013 that we even became close friends.

So I guess, the real story begins at the end of 2013, when we lived in a house WITH 6 PEOPLE…

Yes, at one point or another I lived in a house with 6 people. It was the best and worst time I’ll ever have. My family moved to a new state and graciously (maybe even foolishly) let me and my friends rent their house.

Let me tell you, it was only then that I realized how much I hate disappointing my parents.

At the beginning of this time I, one-by-one, had friends calling who wanted to leave their current living arrangements to join mine. One of these callers was a Mr. Ian Jones. He has always been a clown and a schemer and that call put my stomach in knots full of excitement and nerves with the idea of letting this jester into my house.

At first, Ian and I were just passersby. We’d hang when everyone else was around and we’d drink and be merry with the gang, but we didn’t start seeing each other clearly until the dreaded snow-pocalypse of 2014 (you ATL people know what I’m talking about, the one where people were giving brith on the highway). We were all stuck together at the house for days and I was at one of my lowest, most awkward, strangest, saddest, and most confusing times in my life….. to say the least.

The most noteworthy thing out of that time was this Ian -looking for love in all the wrong places, making a joke from anything, knowing all of the weirdest videos on youtube- Jones. It seemed like, all of a sudden (though Ian now admits this was done purposefully on his end), he was always where I needed him with the right words, the right activities, and the right kind of chick-fil-a meal (he can be a real smooth dude when he needs to be). Over the course of a month or two, it took us no time to decide what we wanted. We made a point to see each other first thing in the morning and right before we went to sleep. He would bring me food and we would sit and talk about all of our woes.
-At this point, Ian had told me he had feelings for me. He wrote out a letter, handed it to me and ran away. I read it and politely turned him down (sorry my dorkus).

The day I decided to love an Ian Jones…

I can honestly say I hold this day more dear than our very own wedding day. It was the day that I not only decided I was capable of loving and caring for someone dearly, but that I was good enough to be with someone that would truly love me for me.

I had spent a very long time thinking about this Ian guy. I thought over and over again to myself “I have to be good to this one.” He was sweet and he was kind and his capacity for love was larger than I’d ever seen from anyone.

He was going to change my life, that much I knew.

So, after what was definitely way too long since he told me he had feelings for me, I wrote a letter. I wrote the letter of all letters and my life has never been the same.

That face I saw when Ian came to me after reading my letter, it brightened my day. We went bowling that night as a kind of first date, just to know what being with each other would be like from that moment on, and I haven’t wanted to leave his side since.

We moved through the motions pretty quickly. I mean, we were roommates before we even started dating so living together was kind of already happening.

We got our own place a few months later after a very important talk about how we could see this new relationships turning into a marriage one day soon. Ian was very sweet about it. He flew across two states to meet with my parents and ask their permission to marry me. Not because they own me or make my decisions for me, but because it’s the polite thing to do.

We’re both impatient when we know what we want.

We don’t see the point in waiting for something you know you want right now. He took me for a bike ride one day, I complained about the hills the whole time. He convinced me to make one more stop, just one, on the way home.

If you’re from Atlanta, GA (where we were living at the time), you may know about the Krog Street Tunnel. If you don’t know, it’s a tunnel in Atlanta filled with graffiti from decades and decades of people making their mark, only on this particular weekend it was painted white. Some big company decided to have a masquerade ball in the tunnel for halloween that year and they painted over all the years of artists, big and small, named and anonymous, all covered by white paint for the sake of a party. So we go to this tunnel where a few people were making their mark on the new, blank canvas of the tunnel, and after close to an hour of complaining about the worst bike ride of my life, Ian gets off his bike and onto one knee and says, “Will this make it better?”

He wasn’t being snarky, he wasn’t trying to shut me up to have some silence after all the complaints. He actually wanted me to feel better, he wanted me to like the bike ride and after all my complaining, he wanted to marry me.

Through our days this has been Ian. The person who showed me it’s okay to be me. The person who showed me that happiness and acceptance is not too much to ask for. The person who makes me want to be better because he absolutely deserves my best because he’s whole heartedly accepted my worst.

It’s been a wild ride, my Dorkus, and you’re the coolest boy in school.