I met him.
Last summer, I was 19 and living in Germany for the summer for an internship in architecture; I had just completed my first year of schooling in New York State. My boyfriend and I met at a club, we were dancing, hitting it off. We continued hanging out for the rest of the summer; he showed me everything. We had cocktails on a beach-themed rooftop in the city; we walked through the botanical gardens telling stories as we went through. He took me to Germany's version of a drive-in theater, showed me the city's annual summer-lake festival. Eventually, however, I had to go home.
We have written every single day since I left for home. Not a day has passed where we haven't written to one another. The 5 months from the time I left until the time I returned were torture. I didn't know if I'd ever get to see him again, nor did I know how our relationship would continue. Somehow, we remained strong. Through all of the tears, through all of the pain, we never fought, were always there, and held on tight. Over my winter break, I was able to visit him for 3 weeks (I stayed at his apartment). I was anxious and nervous that things would be weird or hard, but they were unbelievably perfect. Our lifestyles and our personalities mesh so well.
I am currently home and counting the days until I see him again. I am now 20 and he is 19. I've been raised with the mindset to wait until I find someone I could live the rest of my life with and was always told to wait until much later in life. I love him though. I know he loves me. We know that we belong together. We have talked about the long-term and have both already agreed that anything permanent won't happen until we're both done with schooling. It's always been hard to predict the future, but I feel as though I know it already. Where we'll be and when is unknown, but I know I've met my match.
Last summer, I was 19 and living in Germany for the summer for an internship in architecture; I had just completed my first year of schooling in New York State. My boyfriend and I met at a club, we were dancing, hitting it off. We continued hanging out for the rest of the summer; he showed me everything. We had cocktails on a beach-themed rooftop in the city; we walked through the botanical gardens telling stories as we went through. He took me to Germany's version of a drive-in theater, showed me the city's annual summer-lake festival. Eventually, however, I had to go home.
We have written every single day since I left for home. Not a day has passed where we haven't written to one another. The 5 months from the time I left until the time I returned were torture. I didn't know if I'd ever get to see him again, nor did I know how our relationship would continue. Somehow, we remained strong. Through all of the tears, through all of the pain, we never fought, were always there, and held on tight. Over my winter break, I was able to visit him for 3 weeks (I stayed at his apartment). I was anxious and nervous that things would be weird or hard, but they were unbelievably perfect. Our lifestyles and our personalities mesh so well.
I am currently home and counting the days until I see him again. I am now 20 and he is 19. I've been raised with the mindset to wait until I find someone I could live the rest of my life with and was always told to wait until much later in life. I love him though. I know he loves me. We know that we belong together. We have talked about the long-term and have both already agreed that anything permanent won't happen until we're both done with schooling. It's always been hard to predict the future, but I feel as though I know it already. Where we'll be and when is unknown, but I know I've met my match.
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