Here's the story for those of you who don't know it:I liked his roommate. His roommate liked me. One evening I was sitting on their couch watching TV when Jon came home from Philosophy class. He saw me and said, "She's the One." I didn't know it, but I didn't stand a chance.
I'd call their room, and end up talking to Jon for hours; when I learned his last name I said, "Oh, your poor future wife." But he was funny (hilarious, really), and smart, and likable and we quickly became best friends.
School ended and I politely invited him to come visit me in Utah, he thought I was serious. The next thing I knew, he was on a plane. It was then that my family met him and while I was trying to convince them we were just friends, mom was planning our wedding.
That fall, I finally caught on that he was crazy about me, and I confronted him; he hadn't said ANYTHING to me yet, he was just a great best friend. I was brutally honest. Or just brutal. I actually said, "While you have every characteristic of a man I'd like to marry, I'm just not attracted to you." But he wasn't phased. He persisted, politely.
Finally, I went home for a weekend and realized I hated being without him, so yes, I finally gave in and agreed to be his girlfriend. This is October. In December we started talking about getting married. In March we were engaged.
Six years later, I am still SO glad he never gave up. My little tenacious bull dog...I didn't stand a chance.
We got married outside in the mountains of Salt Lake City on June 14, 2003, surrounded by red rock, waterfalls, and loved ones. Our pastor mispronounced our name, forgot to let us say our own vows, I had no one to cut the cake but the moms, and Jon wanted to go before we even danced together. But it was still beautiful. The roses in the rocks looked perfect, the food was exceptional, the dads made a great speech, and I married my best friend. Oh, and I looked smokin' hot. It was a good day.
