Here’s the thing about this post: It’s about 8 months overdue. Maybe you remember, maybe you don’t, but this was SUPPOSED to be written for Valentine’s Day.

But like the overwhelmed procrastinator I am, I put it off until I couldn’t even milk the fact that it was for Valentine’s Day anymore. So now, it’s for your birthday. And again, taking on that procrastinator persona, it’s October 3rd, and I’m frantically writing this at Old Cal before church starts.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had the words in my head for months, I just always put off the task of sitting down and actually typing them out, because for some reason, the only time my thoughts and feelings ever make sense are when they stay in my head.

But because I love you, I’m determined to have this work out. I’m not going to push it back any longer and make this an anniversary gift.

So this post is for you. And your 21st birthday. And the fact that you’re the love of my life. My loml. My lobster if you will. I know, I know, gross. I’m literally gagging.

The thing that always makes me laugh about us is the fact that we happened so randomly. I don’t think you were looking, I definitely wasn’t looking, and yet, somehow, we both ended up at church on a Sunday night after both of us not going for a loooong time.

And whether someone believes in God or not, I think that part of our story is a little too perfect for it to be labeled as a coincidence.

All throughout high school, I remember getting little flashes and glimpses of who you were. I would hear about you from a girl you were dating who I was friends with at the time. I would get invited every-so-often to events at church but would never go consistently. You walked in front of me my junior year every day going from 2nd to 3rd period. We had mutual friends, and because of that, whether it was good or bad, I somehow knew A LOT about you.

Too much, honestly.

If I wanted to, I could say the moment I grabbed a Chick-fil-A sandwich from you at the high school football game for your ex-girlfriend was the beginning of our love story, but that’s an obvious lie, and I just like to be dramatic.

The real beginning, TRUTHFULLY, happened in the parking lot of Palomar Pizza one fateful evening in early September of 2019. We were all hanging out, and we had to call Triple A because Hunter locked his keys in his car, and then after that night, I knew I had entered the crush phase.

The thing about the crush phase is it can go south real fast. It can be one-sided, you could’ve been a player, or even worse, you could’ve left me on read, only to hit me with a “you up?” text hours later in the dead of night. I really had to make sure I was sifting through the junk qualities lots of guys seem to have these days.

Thankfully, we instead, ended up hanging out more and more until not only were you my friend, but also a potential love interest. Because, surprise, surprise, that crush thing I had going on in my head, wasn’t a one sided thing.

Maika always says “Leaders remove confusion,” and EVERY time she says that, I think of this: It was after church one night in October, and we were in that awkward “they clearly like each other but they aren’t dating yet” phase, and you straight up just laid all the cards on the table. No beating around the bush, no games or toying with my sensitive lil’ feelings, and definitely no tugging on my heartstrings. Just straight facts, super upfront, definitely not leaving me in the dark.

LEADERS REMOVE CONFUSION.

BOOM.

You really started checking off the boxes of my mental checklist right then and there:

Upfront with me: CHECK.

Opens my car door: CHECK

Listens to good music: CHECK

Has really nice hair: CHECK

My mom likes him: CHECK

You know the deal.

But then, I was about to leave for Italy… and we still weren’t dating yet.

I hung out with you the night before I left, and when you dropped me off at my house, you walked me to the stairs, said goodbye to me, and then started walking back to your car while I retreated up the steps to my front door.

And then you called my name. So I walked back down to the bottom, and then, you kissed me on the cheek.

oN tHe cHeEk.

Girls, find you a man who does that. In a way, infinitely better than kissing me right on the lips back then.

Because the entire time I was gone the only thing going through my brain was this: He kissed me on the cheek, what does that mean, does he like me, does he want to date me, okay skylar seriously go to sleep, but I don’t understand what does this mean, oh look at that it’s the pope in front of the vatican, no but seriously I’m confused, wait which side of the face did he kiss me on?

An endless stream of consciousness that would not shut the heck up. I mean, come on! It was almost pathetic. Remember this post?

I grew up reading and hearing about a lot of great love stories. So when I say my standards were high, they were HIGH. When I think of love, I immediately think of my grandparents; my grandpa specifically. Every single time my mom talks about him and the great man he was, a big part of that was how he treated my grams.

How he would do anything for her. How he saved her from her childhood. How he absolutely ADORED her. I feel insurmountably lucky to have had that portrait painted for me when I was younger, and I think a big part of me knows what love is because of the small snippets I got from hearing about them.

And because of that knowledge, and because of the ways we interact, I think you love me so well.

No request is too outrageous. No dream is too big. No emotion is too much (even when they are). You make it seem like it’s easy to love me, and I definitely know it’s not all the time.

Remember right before you left for school? And I was so stressed out and overruled by thoughts of us not working out? Not ending up together? Not being fun & cool & fresh together? (Ok that last one is a joke).

But like a week before you left, you played me this one song, and the beginning goes like this:

What do you need that you don’t have?

What have you lost and can’t get back?

What if I promised it would be alright?

It’ll be alright.

You know the song.

But the night before you were going to school, and you were leaving my house, one of the last things you said to me was “We’re gonna be okay.” There was no hesitation, no question, and no doubt. Just unwavering certainty. You promised we were going to be okay.

And we were. We are.

I doubt you even remember that moment at all, but I think about it a lot actually. It feels pivotal in my head because it’s such a cornerstone to the person you are. Because as a gal with a lot of thoughts and what if scenarios overruling my brain, you’re a voice of reason.

sKyLaR aRe yOu tHinNkInG eMoTiOnAlLy oR lOgIcAlLy???

Definitely emotionally 99.8% of the time, but if you ask again, I’ll for sure say logically. Because me thinking that you have a weird vibe is definitely a logical thought.

I think every girl’s dream to some extent is finding the man that they’re supposed to end up with; it was definitely one of my favorite daydreams growing up. Granted, I always thought I’d meet some east coast guy at a coffee shop while attending a liberal arts school... but that’s besides the point.

Ever since I was 12 years old, and I read Percy Jackson, I kid you not, I’ve thought about this feeling- this choice- to love someone every single day.

I was listening to a podcast once, and the hosts went off on a tangent and started talking about soulmates/believing in love at first sight, and one of the girls said that in some way, it’s almost more romantic to choose someone to love, rather than have your fate laid out with a person predestined for you. And even though the romantic part of my brain is screaming at me as I type this, I agree.

I don’t want a first date I almost canceled, with some random guy who was chosen for me. I want a first date with a guy who is you that I almost cancel on. I got that with you.

And besides, if the whole love at first sight thing was legit, we would’ve gotten started together a looong time ago; probably would’ve saved us a couple heartbreaks, but we wouldn’t be who we are now.

I hope you know I love you. I mean, I hope it’s at least somewhat obvious considering I’ve slaved over writing this for two days now… plus 8 months of thinking time. Also, your birthday ends in like an hour so I really need to make sure this is at least sent to you before you go to sleep. So I’m ending this little letter (?) here.

I can’t wait to roast you into another dimension for the rest of time :)

I hope you know what you got into.

I love you.

Happy 21st to you and your dumptruck!

Love always,

Sky

Garrison,

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