Six Times I Hated You

1. Spring 2009, we were both 19 and just friends. Always used to getting my way, I loved testing the limits of our friendship. You would happily oblige to my every ridiculous request: I made you eat sushi for the first time, you would find ways to get me an unnecessary ice cream cake at 3am, you drove me to and from my job in the city, and let me terrorize you with late night Sonic requests for months. You were so incredibly nice and never intimidated, which was new for me. I didn’t know how to respond. It was weird realizing that you were just a genuinely nice guy doing nice things for people you cared about. I hated it because it made me uncomfortable – I was so used to people pushing back. But you never did. It took me a while, but you waited patiently for me to get over myself and eventually won me over.

2. It was 2010, the beginning of our senior year of college. We had been dating for a year now. Participating in the on campus theater group was a core part of our college experience, so we auditioned for the Fall Musical with all of our friends as usual. You were cast in as a lead (along with all our other male friends) while me and the rest of the females in our group were not cast at all. I hated you for getting a role in my dream show – you didn’t even like that show, and I sort of begged you to audition with me. But the moment after I got the “reject call” you immediately called the director and dropped out. When I asked what the hell you were doing, I think your exact words were “Why would I want to spend a single second away from you on our senior year of college?” I hated that you would do that for me, pissing everyone off but not giving a shit about anything but us.

3. It was the summer of 2011 and we had just graduated college with no jobs and no where to live. I was feeling inadequate, especially after comparing myself to my California peers who seemed to have it all together: full time jobs, living at home to save money, apparently not crying themselves to sleep every night. After months of job searching, I asked you if I could move home to California. You flat out told me no. I had to stay with you, I had to give New York a chance, I couldn’t give up on my life. I hated you for not letting me go, but I knew you were right. We moved in with your parents for a few months before finally saving up enough to move into the apartment that we would call home for 3 years.

4. In 2012 we had a big first: you joined me in California for Thanksgiving. I was so excited to be home, and so thrilled to be home with you. You were a little sad to be away from your family for our first major holiday together, but I hated how much my family adored you. They always loved you, but this trip sealed the deal when my grandmother gave you a card with $20 as a thank you for coming.

5. It was Spring 2013 and I just got fired from my first big girl, salary/benefits, glamorous fashion job. I had panic attacks and didn’t stop crying for three whole days. You brought home a different guilty pleasure dinner for me every night (McDonalds one night, Macaroons the next) and made me drive you into work every morning so I didn’t stay in bed all day. I begged you to let me move home again: New York clearly won this battle, it was time for me to move on. Even my parents were telling my to apply for jobs back home. Again, you said no. You offered to help pay some of my bills to get me through this, but you refused to let me feel sorry for myself. You were my biggest cheerleader, no matter how hard I had fallen. I hated that you believed in me when I didn’t want you to.

6. In June 2014 we took a vacation with my family to Disney World. I was sure you would propose in front of the Cinderella Castle, with most of my extended family right there. You didn’t. I felt completely idiotic having been dating you for 5 years and living with you for 2. I hated myself for giving you the best years of my life and having nothing to show for it. I hated you for not seeing that the timing was right: the time to really take the leap was now. I thought maybe you weren’t ready. But you were, and you got down on one knee only a week later when we were back in NY.

No matter my (over)reactions to anything, you are never discouraged. You bring out the best in me, never allowing me to succumb to my negativity. Six years later you are still proving your love to me in new ways on a daily basis. I’m sorry for all the times I hated you, but I’m thankful for the thousands of times you have proved me wrong. I love you. Happy Anniversary. Here’s to another six.