Weddingbee Blog

…a friend of mine rented out a bar and had a costume theme party: a “Pimp and Hoedown.” Guests were required to dress in one of two categories: Pimp and Ho, or Cowboy and Cowgirl.

I went to the party with three girlfriends and two guy friends who were also co-workers. We all decided to go with the western theme. I wore a western shirt that I borrowed from my mom’s boyfriend, a denim skirt, cowboy boots and hat, and pigtails. Sadly (or luckily) no photos exist. One of my guy friends/co-workers looked super cute in a vintage plaid shirt and cowboy hat. We’d been friends for about a year, but recently, our relationship had started to shift and we’d been flirting for a few weeks.

After a few hours of dancing and way too much drinking, I went outside with one of my girlfriends to have a cigarette (don’t judge, I quit a year and a half ago). She and I chatted for a while out front of the bar, when the object of my flirtation came outside to say hello. My girlfriend none-too-subtly excused herself, and he and I chatted for a few minutes about nothing important.

And then he said, “Hey, I have a question for you.”

“What?” I asked.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

I grinned. “Okay!”

And we made out for quite a while, right out in front of the bar, dressed like cowpokes in the middle of spring. And then we made out inside the bar for a while (what? We’d been drinking).

And when I got home from the party at almost 3 AM, I was falling into bed when my phone rang. It was him, just calling to see if I’d made it home safely. Aw. Cute.

He called me the next day to chat, and seemed a little bit nervous. I’ve never been a phone person, and apparently neither had he, so our call was brief but pleasant.

And the next day, Monday, he stopped by my desk at work to ask me if I was free that night. When I said that I was, he asked if he could take me out to dinner.

He picked me up at my place wearing his roommate’s button-down shirt, looking way more spiffy than his usual band t-shirt and hoodie. We went to an awesome Belgian pub with an incredible beer list and the best mussels you will ever eat. It was fun but kind of strange, making the transition from friends to whatever it was we were doing.

We had a few more dates, a few more make out sessions, a lot more flirting. But I wasn’t sure what I wanted out of this. He was sweet, fun, and adorable, and I liked him, but I wasn’t really looking for a relationship. I had recently come out of a period of crippling depression and wanted to be sure that I was okay on my own before I began something serious with someone else. And he was definitely ready for a relationship from day one. So, while I liked him, I found myself pushing him away a little bit.

But he stuck by me.

And slowly but surely, I realized that I liked him. I wanted to be in a relationship with him. And then, after a few more months, I realized that I loved him. This was no big moment or epiphany; I just slowly realized that the more I got to know him, the more I couldn’t imagine my life without this honest, trustworthy, steadfast, funny, intelligent man. And he loved me too!

Two years later, we moved in together. We adopted a beagle puppy. We became a family.

We fought sometimes, but always made up quickly. We got lazy and started gaining weight but still found each other beautiful. We went out less and stayed in more. We went on trips. Some sucked, and some were amazing. We spent holidays with our families. We learned to cook. We laughed a lot.

Three and a half years after we moved in together, we got engaged. And, almost a year and a half later, we are less than three weeks from our wedding day.

Image via Morrissey Photo

Next month, we’ll have a different anniversary to celebrate, or wedding anniversary, but I’ll always remember the anniversary of when we dressed up in cowboy hats and drunkenly made out at a dive bar.

I love you, Mr. S. It’s been an incredible seven years, and we’re just getting started!