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I knew he was the one...

In the seventh grade, I started to have feelings for the boy who sat next to me in Social Studies.  I couldn't even tell you what it was about him, to this day, I say it was all a matter of pheromones.  In eighth grade, I almost worked up the nerve to ask him out, but got too nervous and didn't.  And then...I fell in love.  During high school, we dated other people, mostly flings, but both of us had a serious relationship.  Well, at least he did, because how serious can a relationship be when all you want is to be with someone other than the person you're dating.  We had gone through so much together during those years--he literally saved me from myself.  Then senior prom came, we both went with other people.  (I went with my best girl friend, he went with a good friend.)  He then ditched his date, and stole me away for the evening.  But it wasn't dancing with him that I realized he was the one...no...it was after wards when we were sitting at the table and he held me in his arms, that for the first time, I was completely and incandescently...happy.  I remember thinking, "This is right, this is where I'm meant to be."  It's been like this since--this happy feeling that doesn't go away, even when he's driven me mad, at the end of the day, in his arms are where I want to be, and they are where I find my true happiness. 

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