I dated my high school sweetheart for 15 years before he finally proposed. I know how that sounds when you type it out on a screen at two in the morning. I used to say it with pride, as if it were a medal. Now I just say it and wait to see what kind of face people make.
My high school sweetheart was Aaron.
I sat with him on my grandmother’s porch swing the summer I turned 16, after my mom had passed. He held my hand while I cried about her, and I thought, “This is the one. This is the boy I’ll grow old with.”
For a long time, that felt true.
I used to say it with pride.
Aaron and I moved into a small apartment after college. I worked at a marketing firm, he sold cars, and every Friday we ordered the same pad Thai from the same place.