Cutest. Story. Ever.

In looking over my last few posts, I realized that those of you who don’t know me (and even some of you who do) may think that I have some serious issues. I seem to go from angry, outspoken bitch to forgiving, accommodating sweetheart at the drop of a hat (or with a phone call). Thank you for bearing with me.

To lighten the tone of this here blog, I thought I’d share a story with you, one that is sure to evoke a huge “awwww” from all who read it (especially if you’re female).

Tomorrow is the birthday of my very good friend AJ’s husband (let’s call him Top Five Husband (TFH) for reasons that are obvious once you spend one second with him). Their story, itself, is one of the best. Ever. Let’s start with that.

AJ and TFH went to middle school together. Cute, little blonde AJ had “an insane” crush on dark haired pre-teen hottie TFH but, as any other 12 year-old, was too shy to let him know. She did, however, write about him in her journal. Day in and day out, AJ filled her journal with her thoughts about TFH.

As tends to happen, AJ and TFH moved in separate directions--high school, college, grad school. She and he both lived their own, separate lives to the fullest. As fate would have it, AJ returned, one summer, to her hometown. Out at a bar one evening (and several cocktails in), AJ turned from her bar stool and looked across the room. And there he was, just as she remembered him. Obviously older and more mature looking. But still the same sweet face she had spent hours upon hours of her middle school years mooning over.

He was in town, too, from far far away visiting his family. AJ was overcome by courage and went up to TFH. She started talking to him and, before she knew it, had blurted out that she had had a crush on him so many years before. Turned out that he, too, thought she was pretty cute. Shortly thereafter, they went on their first date. Next month, they will celebrate their first wedding anniversary.

But, tomorrow, TFH enters into the last year of his 20s. And, as part of his gift, AJ is giving him the journal she kept way back then. The thoughts and wishes of her 12 year old self written with one of “those pens where you could click the top to use a different color ink.” She had “one that was neon pink, neon green, neon purple, and neon aqua” and, apparently, “was not afraid to use all of the colors.”

If that doesn’t renew your faith in love and sweetness and cuteness and meant to be-ness, then I don’t know what will.

Happy Birthday, TFH. I hope you never read this blog.