The backstory:

It was my birthday. It was February 2014 in Chicago, Illinois. I was headed to a birthday party. It was not a birthday party for me (mine was the night prior), and I was heavily intoxicated because of that. I was hanging out with my ex-boyfriend (who is actually a great human and the best ex anyone could ask for) and his weird friend before the party, and part of me was concerned we would never actually make it to said party.

In my adult years I have gone on six first dates.

The first, first date happened after a night of drunken dancing with a neighbor at a local bar when I was 21 years old. I decided maybe I should get to know him a little better after being so close to him for several hours.

Throughout most of my life, my nose and eyes stayed in school books and towards any school activity and campus program or organization I was involved in. Unlike my friends who were excited to peep all of the eye candy (ahem...little boys) on campus, I was more excited to have a bathroom in my bedroom in my dorm room, and even more excited for college essays and being the president of three clubs on campus. All while still learning to love myself (Biggest test ever by the way).

During the cold winter months I noticed this beautiful red headed man sitting across a room from me. He dropped his books. I eagerly jumped up to the rescue to help him and I hoped he would gaze into my deep brown eyes and realize I was the woman he had been looking for his whole life.