Thus began a whirlwind of a Summer. Girls nights with my girls, date nights with this Joe fella. Sometimes the two were at the same time. Now let me tell you, hanging out with Brittany and Jackie, you may start to get a little jealous because them are some dime pieces, and I wasn't eager to let Joseph fall in love with them. On the other hand, Joseph wasn't eager to be put in the friend zone either. He compensated with a large number of dates, just the two of us.
(Here's a pic of Joseph as a third wheel)
Nickle Arcades
Dances
Cooking together
Looking at the stars
Movies
All of those took place within one week.
But the Summer was quickly coming to a close. Joe's internship was ending, and soon he'd be returning to Provo for school. Marching band was about to start for me, and I was getting ready to make the move back to SLC.
One night he came out to see me, and his car broke down in front of my house, all convenient like. This required me to drive him back to his apartment, which provided him the opportunity of... well,
"Lara, I'm leaving soon, and so are you."
"Yeah, I'm not very excited about that..."
"I'd really like to keep dating you when we go back down. I really don't have an interest in dating anybody but you, where we are right now."
"Oh?"
"So, will you be my girlfriend?"
And sweet Joe. He doesn't know that people don't really ask this kind of thing anymore, but that's something I love about him. He's a little old fashioned.
The move to SLC for me and Provo for him was hard for the both of us. Joe was in his final year of school, and I was starting my program. I had football games just about every weekend, on top of that, so our time together was limited at best, and involved a 2 hour round trip. We made it work, though, we sure did.
One late date night we were laughing on the couch and talking and Joe got quiet. He said "Lara.... I really like you."
And I told him the same.
"What do you think if we were together forever?"
"I think that would be really nice."
"I think it would be freaking awesome."
And so.
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