Um anyway, today I wanted to blog about something that has evaded me for most, if not all of my college career. That’s right, people…. perfect overachieving me is FLAWED! Totally kidding. Since moving to Oswego for school, I just haven’t quite gotten the romance part of college figured out. Maybe I went on a date or two (dining hall lunches DO count if you refuse to go Dutch and guest pass for your commuter’s meal. Just sayin’) but I never got the hang of it. It seemed that college boys just weren’t ever interested in me.
I met Matt in April of my freshman year. I had gone out dancing with a few of my friends after much convincing (I was kind of a hermit for the first two years of college). He had come down to Oswego for the night with about a dozen other soldiers from Fort Drum. A tall, very broad guy with a cute smile approached me while I was dancing with my friends and like a cowboy displaced from a country song came this thick Southern accent, and the mystery man introduced himself as Matt. I immediately went starry-eyed. Southern accents get me every time. We talked and laughed with his Army buddies until my friends decided it was time to go home. We exchanged numbers, said goodbye, and I headed home already crafting the text message in my head.
To make a long story short, nearly two and a half years have gone by and I can safely say Matt is my best friend. Most people on the outside looking in see this relationship with Matt as new, blossoming, and in its infancy. Some may even say we’re moving too fast. I say…… it’s about time! On the surface things are new because we had not been together in person for two and a half years. The Army life isn’t very forgiving to couples. Through the years we have known each other, Matt has deployed to Iraq, been home on leave, and been stuck on base without the opportunity to go out…. and each day we did our best to still keep in touch via the Internet, texting, phone calls, and even care packages. For some reason, we just couldn’t coordinate a date to meet up until I returned to Oswego for my last semester. The drive to Fort Drum is a bit lengthy, but I don’t mind it. 75 minutes there and back is just a minor inconvenience to me, considering that I feel as though everything has finally come full-circle. I have found a wonderful person who spoils me rotten (he says I just haven’t been treated well and I’ll get used to it. hehe ), who laughs uncontrollably at a certain way I scrunch up my face, who eats my homecooked meals and cleans the entire kitchen afterwards, and who encourages me to be comfortable in my own skin.
Anyone can be taught a skill – this I have come to realize in my six elapsed semesters at Oswego. But sometimes, you don’t leave college with just a diploma. You leave with another person’s hand in yours.