Things to Remember: Lauren, Part One

What I would consider our first date, though this is certainly up for discussion, would be the night we spent in Dean the Saturday before that fateful Valentine's Day.

We took a short trip to Wal-Mart at about 1am to procure Pizza Rolls. I can actually feel how windy it was that night. It was a crisp night, but it wasn't cold.

In an effort to install Ms. Muirhead-esque symbolism grasping into my blog, I can tell you that the wind really meant something to me that night. I don't know. I just remember how "windy" (Jesus, what am I doing?) my life had been for a while up to that point, and how I felt like my life wasn't the windy thing; at least for one night.

A date had been something to freak out about, something to get obscenely nervous about, something to analyze as it happened, and in many ways something to dread. This was different. This was...organic, I guess. I think that's the best way to describe it.

A dimly-lit room, some (bad) movies, some junk food prepared in the basement of my dorm, and some discussion about personal tastes. There just wasn't anything outside that dorm room.

The evening gave me every reason to be confident enough to man up, so to speak.

And here we are.



"Ada"
The National