the phone call.

On this day last year my life went full-blown Nicholas Sparks. Let's break it down, shall we?

I received a phone call from a familiar area code, but the number no longer deserved storage in my phone. It was a number I tried my hardest to forget, time and time again. This number had been in and out of my life for the previous 23-or so months and according to the voicemail I received from this number, it wanted back in.

This phone call from that phone number was the final sign that Justin and I were supposed to be together.

Rather than call that number back, I sat around and cried. I called one of my friends and cried. And she asked me a very simple question: Who would you choose? And I answered without skipping a beat. So call him, she said. OKAY FINE.

I made a drink, took a deep breath and dialed a number that was stored in my phone. And he didn't answer. So I left a message.

I finished that drink and made another one. And then my phone rang.

Are you okay? No.

Are you, you're not pregnant are you? ARE YOU SERIOUS IT IS SO MUCH WORSE THAN THAT.

So I told him, this was it. This was the last time I would say any of this. The last time I would dial his number, the number that I liked to dial. The last time I would cry, and beg and plead for him to make the easiest and most rational decision of his life: to love me. To give us a chance.

You know how I know that I love you so much? I hate your shoes. Your shoes are awful, and I still love you.

He asked for more time and I said, no. Six months is plenty, right? I gave him two days, and only that long because my parents were coming in to town the next day.

I hung up the phone, called my friend back and asked her to bring me Taco Bell. Because during that phone call I had gotten myself drunk and hadn't eaten dinner. So she brought me Taco Bell at eleven p.m. and we watched stupid TV. And then I watched Grey's Anatomy because why wouldn't a completely emotionally disturbed person make their life that much worse? I didn't need sleep.

Two days later as I was laying on the couch recovering from a night of partying with my parents and also brunch drinking with said parents, my phone rang. And I panicked, so I let it go to voicemail. I wasn't ready to hear what I had been hearing for the past six months.

He asked me to come over, that he just needed a friend. Not knowing what that meant but secretly hoping I knew what it meant, I got myself up and ready and went to his apartment. Shaking and sweating, but at least my hair looked good.

I chose you. It's over. What? I don't believe you. 

And I didn't believe him. It took about two weeks before I believed him. It only took one week to go shoe-shopping though.

If you ask Justin the story of how we started dating, he tells this story with pride. He says it was the most endearing phone call of his life. I always get slightly embarrassed due to my utter act of desperation. But I also always feel quite a bit of satisfaction that my lack of shame actually got me what I wanted the most. And I will always be completely overwhelmed with the amount of love that I feel for one person.