The first time I met Pighunter, I was 14 years old and he was 20.
His ex-girlfriends mother had invited him to church, the same church that my dad was co-pastor of, and so, he came, "got saved" and started attending regularly.
Ex-girlfriend followed him there and so, she started attending church regularly as well and Pighunter became known as "Diane's Boyfriend."
I thought Pighunter was the biggest, most giant nerd I had ever met. He was skinny, had puffy hair, wore glasses that BIGGER THAN GOD and OMIGAWD! He talked like a valley girl.
Me and my best friend used to make fun of him all of the time. We'd make fun of the way he talked, of the clothes he'd wear, and of the fact that "haha! He looks like a rat!"
Honestly, we had no right to be making fun of A-N-Y-O-N-E because.
Um.
Yeah.
Eventually, I got to know him, fell in love with him and WANTED TO HAVE TEH SEX WITH HIM EVERY MINUTE OF EVERYDAY.
(One day, I am going to write our "how we met and fell in love" story. And you will laugh because Oh.My.God.Nerds.At.Church.In.Love.)
I'll never forget the day we announced our engagement in front of the church. I was all "OMG. I LOVE HIM. lala.ponies.rainbows.love.Jesus.love.butterflies.love.LOVE.KISSIES.HUGGIES and I can't wait to grow old with him."
Everyone laughed (Except for my mom, who was disgusted by my lovey dovey shit) but I meant it. I loved him so much in that moment that I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him and have kids with him and grow old together and sit on the porch in our rocking chairs and watch our grandkids play together.
I was 18 years old when I said those words, he was only 24.
Today, that beautiful man whom I loved with every fiber of my being and whom I dreamed of growing with turns fourty one years old
A few nights ago, we were laying on the sofa watching television late at night. I scooted close to him and began running my fingers through his hair. His thin, gray hair.
Tears started running down my face.
"This is the man that I fell in love with when I was only 17 years old." I thought to myself.
His hair, once thick and jet black is now thin and gray. The age is starting to show in his face, in his hands, in the way he moves. The energetic young man who would stay up late with me to watch Arsenio Hall, now passes out on the couch before 8pm.
He's growing old right before my eyes. We're growing old together.
The other night, we talked about the fact that one day, one of us will have to bury the other. (Because THE LORD KNOWS NEITHER ONE OF US IS EVER LEAVING.) I started to cry and told him that he better let me die first because I realized in that moment that I could not life my life without him in it. I can't even begin to imagine how I could get out of bed if he wasn't there to kiss me goodmorning. I started to panic! And then! I PUNCHED HIM (seriously! I did!) and told him that he had better start working out and TAKING THE DAMN VITAMINS I BOUGHT HIM LAST YEAR because I NEED HIM TO OUTLIVE ME.
(See how fun and awesome we are! We talk about beautiful things, like burying each other and who's going to die first!)
41. Which means in a month, I will be 35. My God. How the time is flying by. I still remember when we were young and pretty, with big hair and VERY LARGE GLASSES and all we wanted to do was be alone so we could Do The Nasty.
Now, we want nothing more than to take a nap and watch "To Catch a Predator" while we discuss what WE would do to those perverts if we could get our hands on them. (Hint: Cut.Off.Balls.)
Happy Birthday, Pighunter. I LOVE YOU AND I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU BETTER LET ME DIE FIRST.
xoxo
The best post i've read all day!
Happy Birthday pig hunter!!