Mike and I started dating the summer after my first year at college. He had just graduated his program and had stayed in town while deciding whether or not to continue going to school. I stayed in town because I didn’t want to go home and live with my parents for the summer.

He’d dated one of my best friends the previous year. It was a short lived relationship that ended anything but amicably; with accusations of cheating from both parties it was a messy situation to say the least. I tried my hardest to stay out of it, even though I was repeatedly sucked in by both parties. My friend moved back home for the summer and Mike and I remained in town, with a couple other friends who had hung around.

After a few months of talking and hanging out (since it was a small town, and Mike and I had some mutual friends it was hard not to spend a lot of time together) we started hanging out, alone. Our relationship began to change, without either of us really realizing what was going on at first. Once I realized that I was starting to have feelings for him, I called the friend immediately. I had to tell her what was going on, and as a good friend, I had to have her blessing before things went any further: which she obliged.

Things began to heat up, and by summer’s end we were inseparable. Sleeping every night together in a single bed of his rented house, we would talk for hours about anything and everything.

Then, one night, he dropped The Bomb on me.

Make that two.

He had accepted a job across country, and was leaving as I started my second year. Just like that, Gone. I couldn’t even put up a fight because it had all been set in motion months ago; when I was nothing more then a summer fling (which I wasn’t hurt by because that’s how he started out for me as well).

And in an instant, he would be gone. 1500 miles away. Would I ever see him again? Was this The End?

Then….

He proposed.

As I lay in that single bed, weeping, trying to accept the fact that this was The End, he asked me to marry him.

Without much thought, I said Yes. Of course I said Yes.

[Did I mention I was 19 at the time?]

Then immediately thoughts of telling my parents that I had not only gone to school for an education, but got a husband, scared the ever-living shit outta me.

Mike left for work at the end of August, and I went back to school. He was gone, across country, for nearly 5 months before he was able to come back.

We delayed our wedding for nearly five years as we both became accustomed to our lives as adults. Getting careers, earning money, finding a place to live. As I look back now, it was the best decision that we could have made after jumping into engagement after merely 4 months of dating.

[You're probably wondering why I'm telling you this, huh?]

Well, since getting married 2 and a half years ago, we haven’t been apart from each other. Prior to being married, we were both always out of town with our respected careers and would spend months of time physically separated, but since our wedding, and even Carter’s arrival, he’s never accepted an out of town job. Until now. This is the first time in 2 and a half years that I have been away from him for more then one day.

My bed was wonderfully HUGE and SO comfortable last night. I loved every second of being able to sprawl about and move without his sighs of disapproval. The dog didn’t cramp my style as she had another whole HALF of the bed for herself.

Blissful sleep last night. Utter bliss.

But, no question. I would sleep, cramped like sardines, in that single every single night with him if I had to.