It was my first semester at college, and family weekend. I took my parents to an open mic on campus and was caught by this one person who read a poem - as my mom was, too. She told me (much to my chagrin at age eighteen) that I "really should meet that guy."
The next semester we ended up taking a class called Goddess Traditions together, and in March, going on a week-long service trip to New York City to work with homeless organizations. We got to know each other chatting in a soup kitchen run by French nuns, and on a free day when we ran around the city to different galleries and museums. That week I grew to really admire him and loved his view of the world and his creativity and humor and presence. Pretty soon he became one of my favorite people - if someone were to ask the question, 'who, living or dead, would you invite to a dinner party?' he would always be on the short list.
Fast forward four years - I've just graduated from school and Joel is back from a stint in California. We ran into each other getting a burrito - I was with my little brother, and Joel sat down with us to eat. I knew it was fate when Orion, 6, started tickling Joel within minutes (a mark of true friendship), and I was thrilled when Joel invited the both of us on a hike the next day. After a week or more of seeing each other every day and wandering town together aimlessly past midnight, Joel had told his friend that he was 'dating a girl but she doesn't know it yet.' Though I had high hopes, being ever-cautious, I didn't presume to know exactly how he felt until he succinctly asked me to dinner, stating, 'I'll make a reservation.'
And yes, we've been hanging out every day since then too - and plan to spend every day together from now on, if we can help it.
