Valentine

Dear Jared-valentine,

I wanted to tell you that sometimes, just every once in a while, I play our first dance song while I wander around the house. I feel to myself how I think it will be to dance with you on our wedding night. I think it will feel like falling for the full 4 minutes and 49 seconds. How wonderful that will be.

There is nothing more real in the whole world than the way I feel about you. There is not enough space in my body to hold how much I love you. 

Your valentine,

D.

This was his valentine, written out sloppy-fancy with my new calligraphy skillz. This was mine - on the napkin from the burrito place we to went after my class tonight:

In the car on the way home, he sang me a dirty re-write of the song "Listen to Your Heart." (I don't know where this stuff comes from but it makes me laugh so hard)

Such a good day.

Lifelongs and forevers

*Otherwise known as the details.

Jared pulled back the covers on the bed and then tucked them all around me after I settled into the pillows. The cabin was cold. We had driven up to Flagstaff on Christmas day, ahead of his parents and brother so that we could heat up the house and trade a couple of gifts with just the two of us. But, I was still a little sick and very tired from the India trip. So, I was put to bed.

I woke up to a sweet hug, soft kisses, and a much warmer room.
"Come downstairs," he said, "Let's have Christmas."

A tree was up. Covered in lights, presents stacked around the trunk. Candles were lit around the room and over the mantle, two knit stockings hung, I imagine, with care. Jared took them down and we settled on the floor to empty them out. Everything in our stockings was from Jared's mom. I found body wash, lotion, perfumes, chocolate, and an orange. And in the bottom was a small, velvet jewelry box.

"Oh," Jared said, taking the box from my hand. "You can't have that until you answer a question."

I looked at him confused, "What?" I asked. Still thinking of earrings, or maybe a necklace, from his mother.

"You can't have it until you answer a question." He got on one knee.

"Oh," and then the whole world changed, like a small shift in space, the sunlight a slightly different color. And I thought, this is happening right now. Nothing will ever be the same. This is your whole life.

He opened the box and I got a glimpse of the ring before I looked back at his face. Then he asked.

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes," I said softly before kissing his mouth and hugging him hard around the neck. I was crying. I didn't want to stop holding him and touching him. Minutes later he asked if I wanted to see the ring. "I do," I said tearfully, "It's just that I love you so much!"

One more kiss. One more hug. And then he put it on my trembling finger.

1

One year ago, late late late at night the sweetest boy looked up at me in the middle of our first kiss at the end of our second date in as many days. "Danielle, does this mean you're my girlfriend?" he asked, with a perfectly darling look on his face.

"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?" I asked just to hear it again. 

"Yes, I do."

"Then yes, I will be your girlfriend." 

We both smiled. And then, due to some kind of mutual misunderstanding, kept kissing for another 6+ hours. Ridiculous. But kind of great.

This has been the best year I have ever had. He is my favorite and I love him like crazy.

A small note

Hi favorite,

I love that you had to pull the car over last night just so that we could press our cheeks together and tangle up our arms - just for a minute or two.

Love,

D.

Anniversary with my favorite

On our first date - one so successful it could have ended with a kiss - we were eating dessert. I asked him about where he had served his mission for our church. "Alabama," he said. I responded that I bet he ate really well. He smiled and leaned back in the booth. He grabbed his belly in both his hands and gave it a shake. "Did I eat well?" he laughed, "Eight some years later, I still have something to show for it."

I was delighted.

How could you not be?

Six months later and I love him love him love him. 

I really really really ...

via My Little Underground

Boyfriend

I have a boyfriend.

He's kind of completely and totally amazing.

His name is Jared Mooney.

(A last name which my little brother has decided might be the coolest ever)

Jared works for the NPR station in Boston as a sound engineer and owns a rad recording studio. He plays guitar (along with a bunch of other instruments). And sings. Sometimes to me.

Yes. It is almost painfully attractive.

And right now I miss him. Badly.

Boston and January 31st feel far to far away.

I'd swim the ocean for you

I have a Kelsey. She is like no one but herself and herself is really kind of wonderful. There is a lot that should be said about this girl. Like how she talks to herself using terms of endearment and mild scoldings. Or how she straightens her hair in the most haphazard way I have ever seen. Or how she giggles in her sleep. But today she told me about these dreams she has. And I haven't found anything so funny or charming or so very Kelsey in a while.

See. Sometimes she has bad dreams. About terrorists. And the dreams go something like this:

Kelsey gets kidnapped and put on TV, crying and up for ransom as the terrorists threaten to chop her head off. They keep her for some time. She makes multiple television appearances in tears, begging for release. But they never end up decapitating her, even though she's never ransomed or rescued. Why? Because while she is with them she converts the terrorists to the gospel of Jesus Christ. And they repent. And give her back.

I mean. Seriously. Who has such a dream? And don't you wish you had a Kelsey like mine?