As I type this, I remember the beginning of the Titanic movie where she says, “It’s been 84 years…”.

Clearly it has not been that long for my relationship with my husband, Dylan. We did however meet a little over seven years ago. It was by chance that we met, and I remember that night very well, sort of. So, I will now dive deep into the story of how we met, to which I am sure he remembers even better (just kidding, he was pretty drunk).

It was in November of 2012 and one of my best friends from high school was in town. She had asked if I wanted to hangout downtown St. Pete that night with her and another mutual friend. I the usual home body decided to go out as she is not in town often. We did some bar hopping and a lot of drinking as we were 23 years old and hangovers were nonexistent then. Finally, it was towards the end of the night and our mutual friend said he had some friends at another club/bar he wanted to meet up with, so we all agreed and went to what was then called Vintage. This place was cool at that time, it had two levels and a huge wrap around bar and great music.

We get there and find his friend who brought his roommate/best friend with him. As I am grabbing my drink and walking back over, I notice this very tall, very large (built like a linebacker) man standing with our group. I, being drunk, tell our guy friend to find out if he is single for me. He comes back with the intel that he is single and a cool guy. I then proceed to walk up to this man and ask him to dance with me. To which he does for a short period time, as mentioned before it was the end of the night (meaning close to 2 am). I then ask for his phone and put my number in it. Our group then proceeds to leave, and the night is over.

I wake up the next morning with no hangover (those were the days) and a text from an email that I don’t recognize. It was an IMessage from the guy I had met last night asking how I was. Immediately I remember giving him my number and dancing with him. I don’t respond right away but eventually do with the pleasantries of many conversations you have with complete strangers. He proceeds to tell me “he is attempting to remember what I look like”. How sweet is that, right? The man was so drunk he doesn’t remember what I look like, except that I was petite. This is where the roommate/best friend comes in to the rescue, he remembers and thankfully told him I was good looking. This man just helped save what will eventually be the beginning of my forever with this man. The conversation continues over the next few weeks with him attempting to get me to go on a date with him. I of course being a cautious single small female declined or pushed it off for two weeks. I then finally agreed in December to go on a date with him.

Little did I know then, but this first date would be the last first date I ever have with someone.

Hugs,

TPTW