Happy seventh anniversary, Baby Doll!

Today Ian and I celebrate seven years together as a couple. We started dating May 23, 1997, and even though we didn&#039t get married until September 7, 2002, we still prefer to celebrate the May date because that&#039s how long we&#039ve been committed to each other. Want to hear the whole story of how we got together? Well, since you can&#039t actually answer that right now, I&#039m just going to tell it to you anyway. 🙂

November 1996. It was my junior year and Ian&#039s senior year. We were both in the Beta Club which held an annual convention in Indianapolis every fall. I had broken up with Brent Ochs about a month and a half prior to the event (Rather, he broke up with me, but who&#039s counting?), and on the way up to Indy in the bus, I decided that I was going to try looking for another boyfriend. We stopped at a Burger King to eat, and although it was pretty cold outside and few of us had coats on, a number of us decided to play hacky-sack outside on the sidewalk. There was this one guy who was just full of energy, jumping around, teasing people, just being goofy fun. When the other kids inside the restaurant started huddling by the door waiting for the bus driver to open the bus, he went over to the door and opened it, letting all the cold air in. When they started yelling at him to shut the door, he simply responded with mock hurt: &#034But I&#039m only being polite and holding the door for you.&#034 My immediate reaction: &#034He looks like he&#039d be an interesting guy to get to know.&#034 I was right.

I kept my eye on him during the weekend, but soon came to find out that this Ian Doyle guy I was watching was dating someone and had been for quite some time. Oops. So, I went after his friends. The hotel somehow made the mistake of putting my room with an adjoining door to a guys&#039 room, all guys I know from other clubs and band, so I spent most of my time with them. One of them was Joel Padgett, and he&#039s who I ended up dating after the weekend was over and a few days of hanging out with him at lunch. Joel was in the circle of friends that Ian hung out with, so I was around him even if I wasn&#039t dating him, and I got to know his quirky personality even better.

After four months of dating/breaking up with/dating/breaking up with Joel, I decided to date around a bit (Ian was still with Missy Owens, unfortunately.) and started dating Charlie Bault who worked with me at Hardee&#039s. Charlie&#039s a sweet guy, believe me, but he was just too sweet for me, and I still wanted Ian. Ian had been there for me during the disastrous prom that year when I was on twelve different medications (One made me sleepy, one made me nauseous, one made my pee turn orange…You get the picture: it was nasty.) and could only watch my date (Joel) run around with every other girl there leaving me to stew on a chair. Ian was always nice to me, always playful, always charming. Charlie and I had been dating for about a month when I found out that Ian dumped Missy. That was all I needed to hear. A week later, I broke up with Charlie (Who, by the way, started dating one of my really cute friends and still is, so I don&#039t feel bad.), and I started working on getting together with Ian.

I found out where his locker was and started popping up around there from time to time. I began pestering him at lunch more, trying always to stand near him and talk to him. He was just so cute! His soft brown hair always parted down the middle, his big geeky glasses, his Fila high-tops, his almost too-tight jeans, his flannel shirts over black T-shirts… And those eyes. His bright dancing eyes that always smiled at me. I was hooked. I wanted him.

We started passing notes back and forth in our lockers and in Dave the Wave Kavanaugh&#039s trigonometry class. I&#039ll never forget the crazy way he folded his notes as if he didn&#039t understand what &#034square&#034 meant. I&#039ll never forget the note I got one Friday with that scrawling print in all capital letters which read: &#034I think I&#039m falling for you, and I like it. If I ask, will you be mine?&#034 I got the note at the end of the school day, so I raced to my green Calais, sped home and grabbed the clear plastic phone in my room and punched his number, my heart pounding and my head spinning.

&#034Hello?&#034 &#034Yes.&#034 &#034What?&#034 &#034Yes!&#034 &#034A thousand times yes!&#034

And so it began.

And so it continues. We&#039ve had our ups and we&#039ve had our downs. He&#039s seen me through getting my wisdom teeth out, a car accident which left me permanently shaken, the death of my Grandma Ringwald, my rough first years at college, and my semester abroad when I didn&#039t think I could possibly miss him more. I&#039ve been there for him through transfering from college to college to college, through the death of so many family members, through all the problems he&#039s ever had with work, through everything. I love him. He loves me. I can&#039t honestly imagine life without him. He is half of me. He is such a part of myself that I bring him with me in everything I do, in everything I am. He&#039s just that great.

Happy anniversary, mon amour. Je t&#039aime, je t&#039adore, et je t&#039aimerai pour toujours.

Posted: May 23, 1997-2004. Noon.