Mr. Hydrangea (Mr. H) and I first met in our high school Spanish class. I was a sophomore and Mr. H was a junior. According to Mr. H, he always had a bit of a crush on me in class and, to his horror, I couldn't even remember that he was in my class. He also worked with my mom in the attendance office once a week, and, again, to his horror, she couldn't remember it either. It wasn't until after college, through mutual friends, we began hanging out. For nearly two years we were best friends and did everything together, including helping each other out with our dysfunctional relationships at the time. It wasn't until one night, when out with friends, we both could tell that we didn't like the attention either of us was giving to the opposite sex. That night, Mr. H went in for the kill and kissed me. We've been together every day since.
We were engaged on Mr. H's birthday, a little over a year and a half after we began dating. I was out to a girls' dinner with my friends and Mr. H was just hanging around the house. Although we had seriously been talking about marriage (actually, I knew he already had the ring), I completely didn't see it coming. I guessed earlier in the week that he would propose on his birthday but he did EVERYTHING to convince me that this was not the case. I completely believed him (mainly because I have an intimidating father who I was SURE Mr. H hadn't spoken to yet), so I had no qualms about having my girlfriend over for wine after dinner. Needless to say, midnight creeped upon us and it was almost his birthday, so after several hours and a bottle of wine later, Mr. H was antsy for my friend to go home. Long story short, about 5 minutes after she left Mr. H was on one knee and the rest is history!
The Hydrangeas!
The Hydrangeas!
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