My Life

I Got Married.

The minute I walked in to that job interview, I knew that first person I saw working there, I was going to marry.

His name was Thomas. He was also the biggest douche on earth. The whole two and a half years I works at converse as a lead, he was a dick.

Our first lunch break, we split French fries and made out in the back of my car.

I worked in the front of the store and he just kind of did whatever it was he did. I’m not really sure. But soon, we started acting as if everything was a competition. Who had the higher GPA, who had the highest SAT scores, who could make more sales, who got accepted to the best universities, and who could be better than the other.

Then my eating disorder made me so sick that I was in the hospital. When I went back to work, I was on a ladder, restocking shit, he walked past and I fell. He caught me.

He fucking caught me while I was literally falling from the tallest fucking ladder on earth for the shortest fucking girl to be on.  It was oddly romantic.

I then found out that the whole time that I was out sick from being in the hospital, that he had been asking where I was and when he found out, every time we had a lunch break, he made me eat. He fucking cared. It was weird.

Finally, our senior year came around, I told him we were going to Prom together. He said no.

The next day he texted me asking me to prom.

Then he showed up two days before prom at my school, with a sign that read “Taylor And Tom Take Prom.” He was also dressed in his favorite day suit.

Before prom, we went to some dumb music festival, ran late for group dinner for prom, had major sunburns and some how, made it through the whole night with out kissing once.

A couple of weeks later, a few of us from work went out to the club to dance and Thomas came, and some sappy love hip hop song came on. Andres (a coworker) said that it was a sign that we were suppose to be together. He started asking Thomas questions the whole time, like “so how do you really feel about Taylor?” etc. Finally, Thomas told him to shut the fuck up since he was getting in his feels and shut off the car radio.

Then the following Monday, at 6 IN THE FUCKING MORNING, he sends me a text:

“Hey Tay, I might be in love with you. Stay tuned for further updates.”

I went back to sleep while thinking, does he think he’s news channel broadcaster now? Like what the actual fuck?

I finally messaged him back and told him to take me on a real date and give me ten reasons why he might be in love with me. We went on that date. He gave me ten reasons why he hates me.

Then graduation and summer came around, we were still hanging out and going on dates. We weren’t dating, he wasn’t my boyfriend, we were just us. It was nice.

A month before we left for our separate colleges, we were both out of town on vacations or something. Our messages went like this one of those nights apart:

Me: I’m about to be an A-List celebrity on my game, so you should marry me now before I become famous in real life.

Him: Let’s do it.

Me: What?

Him: Let’s get married. For real get married.

Me: When?

Him: When we get back.

Me: I’d like to be proposed to properly. 

We get back and he proposes in the middle of Klyde Warren Park in Dallas, Tx. I got drunk, went to the court house and I got married three days later. I’m a married woman to someone I knew I would from the second I saw him.

August, 5th.



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