30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 4
Something that is part of your routine that you enjoy
This is my usual routine:
I get up
I wash my face
I do my hair
I do my makeup
I catch the tram
I go to school
I come home
I get on the computer
I talk with people
I log off
I go to bed
I do it all over again
What I enjoy most about that routine? Probably the talking with people after school. Not because I particularly enjoy talking (writing is more of my thing ^.-), but because of the people I talk to. You might remember my last post saying something about best friends? Well, yea. I talk to my friends, I talk to people on Facebook, I talk to my family sometimes, but the one person I can count on to always be on, to always have something to say, even if it's just, "Hey. What's up?", has definitely got to be my best friend. Otherwise known as my boyfriend.
I'm going to start off by saying that when we first met, it was definitely not "love at first sight" (which I'm happy about because I don't believe in that.). We were, what, 11, 12 years old, 6th graders starting middle school. We'd gone to different elementary schools (on my part, many different elementary schools), and now we were meeting for the first time in a big school, knowing we would know each other for at least the next three years.
I honestly want to say that we didn't like each other at first. At least, I think so. I'm a little hazy on the details of how we first met, what our first conversation was about (probably about math or something like that), what it felt like seeing him and talking to him. I just remember thinking that I annoyed him (and, knowing me, I probably tried to annoy him...). I was still friends with some of his friends, though, so it was inevitable that we talk a little.
I knew he was much smarter (and taller) than I was and that he seemed a little odd (who didn't at that age?), but I did not hate him. I wasn't gunning to be his best friend, but I certainly didn't shun him or anything. After two years of knowing each other, I had to move (so much for the "at least the next three years" theory...). Not just move to a new town, not move to a new state, not even move across the country to California. No, my parents took it to the next level: We moved to Europe.
And thus began our journey as real friends. When we were settled in our new temporary (because they were all just temporary...still are) home, and when I logged on to AIM, I started receiving messages from him. "Hey, what's up? How's Austria? Do you like it there? Do you miss America?" After a while, the questions stopped and we just started talking about anything and everything that pleased us. Until one day, when he asked me to marry him. As a 13-year-old girl, I laughed, naturally, and told him "No.", not knowing that he had actually meant the question literally (or as literally as a 13-year-old boy could mean a question like that, anyway).
Of course, little did I know that he had had a crush on me for a long time and was just too afraid to approach me while I was still in the realm of possibility. (Or so he told me). So, naturally, after that embarrassing rejection, he didn't ask me to marry him (or anything else) again. But, through a mutual friend, we did finally get together. We were together for two months, until I decided I didn't want a long distance relationship and it wasn't fair for him or for me.
Biggest. Mistake.
For the next 7 years, we got closer as friends, talking every day, and I suffered through his crushes and girlfriends (not that I ever blamed him), always wishing and hoping it was me. The phrase "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone" hit me hard. Soon, we progressed from exes to best friends, and we still are. And, as of January 9th, 2011, we have been together.
So, this story's intent was just to show you why talking to him every day is my favorite part of my routine. There is no one else I'd rather spend my time talking to, and I hope that even if, God forbid, we do break up, we can still keep on talking every day, because I value his friendship more than anyone's.
--Cassy
This is my usual routine:
I get up
I wash my face
I do my hair
I do my makeup
I catch the tram
I go to school
I come home
I get on the computer
I talk with people
I log off
I go to bed
I do it all over again
What I enjoy most about that routine? Probably the talking with people after school. Not because I particularly enjoy talking (writing is more of my thing ^.-), but because of the people I talk to. You might remember my last post saying something about best friends? Well, yea. I talk to my friends, I talk to people on Facebook, I talk to my family sometimes, but the one person I can count on to always be on, to always have something to say, even if it's just, "Hey. What's up?", has definitely got to be my best friend. Otherwise known as my boyfriend.
I'm going to start off by saying that when we first met, it was definitely not "love at first sight" (which I'm happy about because I don't believe in that.). We were, what, 11, 12 years old, 6th graders starting middle school. We'd gone to different elementary schools (on my part, many different elementary schools), and now we were meeting for the first time in a big school, knowing we would know each other for at least the next three years.
I honestly want to say that we didn't like each other at first. At least, I think so. I'm a little hazy on the details of how we first met, what our first conversation was about (probably about math or something like that), what it felt like seeing him and talking to him. I just remember thinking that I annoyed him (and, knowing me, I probably tried to annoy him...). I was still friends with some of his friends, though, so it was inevitable that we talk a little.
I knew he was much smarter (and taller) than I was and that he seemed a little odd (who didn't at that age?), but I did not hate him. I wasn't gunning to be his best friend, but I certainly didn't shun him or anything. After two years of knowing each other, I had to move (so much for the "at least the next three years" theory...). Not just move to a new town, not move to a new state, not even move across the country to California. No, my parents took it to the next level: We moved to Europe.
And thus began our journey as real friends. When we were settled in our new temporary (because they were all just temporary...still are) home, and when I logged on to AIM, I started receiving messages from him. "Hey, what's up? How's Austria? Do you like it there? Do you miss America?" After a while, the questions stopped and we just started talking about anything and everything that pleased us. Until one day, when he asked me to marry him. As a 13-year-old girl, I laughed, naturally, and told him "No.", not knowing that he had actually meant the question literally (or as literally as a 13-year-old boy could mean a question like that, anyway).
Of course, little did I know that he had had a crush on me for a long time and was just too afraid to approach me while I was still in the realm of possibility. (Or so he told me). So, naturally, after that embarrassing rejection, he didn't ask me to marry him (or anything else) again. But, through a mutual friend, we did finally get together. We were together for two months, until I decided I didn't want a long distance relationship and it wasn't fair for him or for me.
Biggest. Mistake.
For the next 7 years, we got closer as friends, talking every day, and I suffered through his crushes and girlfriends (not that I ever blamed him), always wishing and hoping it was me. The phrase "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone" hit me hard. Soon, we progressed from exes to best friends, and we still are. And, as of January 9th, 2011, we have been together.
So, this story's intent was just to show you why talking to him every day is my favorite part of my routine. There is no one else I'd rather spend my time talking to, and I hope that even if, God forbid, we do break up, we can still keep on talking every day, because I value his friendship more than anyone's.
--Cassy
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