Maybe a regular Monday for most, but January 28th will always mean a little something to me.
It was January 28th, 2010, when a cute blonde boy rang my doorbell. I opened the door, to see him slyly smiling at me. I felt a mixture of emotions: happy, excited, nervous. I think those emotions are all pretty common for a girl to feel when she goes out with a boy for the first time. I sent him a text earlier that day asking him what we were doing for our date. His response was that it was a surprise. I interpreted that in two ways. Either 1) it really was a surprise and would probably be good or 2) he had no idea what we were doing yet. Both of my interpretations ended up being correct. He had planned not one, but five or six dates, and we left it up to chance to see which date we would actually go on.
It ended up being the best first date of my life. So good that three years later, I am still dating him. It's funny to think that something as simple as a first date could end up having so much meaning. It means enough that every year we celebrate and relive that first date. And every year he brings me a bouquet of roses.
-three roses to celebrate three years-