I met my husband during our university freshman orientation. I immediately liked him, but thought that he was just a little too goofy for me to get serious about. And besides, he was friends with way too many girls, so I thought I thought there was no chance he would ever love with me. And so we were just good friends. For nearly four years. I dated often, and kissed a few boys here and there, but was always restless with relationships. He kissed no one, and was very content to be everyone’s friend. By our senior year, I knew I wanted to marry him, that being with him would make me a better version of me. But I couldn’t exactly tell him that and plant ideas in his mind. If he were to pursue me, I wanted it to be his idea, so I tried to keep up the friendship as normal. A few days before graduation, he told me he loved me. I started crying, he knew I loved him too, and we were engaged. We were married 6 months later. I am the only woman he has ever kissed.

That was more that 11 years ago, and I love him far more now than I did on that June day when I first whispered “I love you, too!” I am so glad that, for the first years of our relationship, we were just friends. Long before he loved me, he knew my faults, my sense of humor, my dreams, my quirks. And I knew the same about him. We never tried to impress each other. Marriage was not a huge adjustment, but felt like things had finally become exactly as they were supposed to be. Of course marriage takes work, but it is good, life-giving work, not drudgery. He (and our three children) fills my life with joy and adventure. I could not have married a better man.