Andrew and I took a Gender Studies class together in college, believe it or not. We were both a little on the shy side and sat next to each other at the back of the class. We often paired up for group projects. I was stunned to see how hard he worked. He did every reading, even the suggested readings that no one else bothered with.
I asked him why once. When I did, I saw his eyes sparkle for the first time. “My passion is writing. I want to write the most realistic characters and relationships possible. I’ll take any class that I think can help.”
That sparkle jump-started my heart and I fell in love with him right there.
You know, Andrew and I knew almost everything about each other. But I bet he didn’t know that that was the moment when I fell in love. I bet he didn’t know how his eyes magnetize when he’s talking about his writing.
He also didn’t know that I’ve read everything he’d ever written. Every paper, every short story, every article for our crappy school newspaper…when we were married, his mom handed me all of his writings that she’d collected over the years. Did you know he started when he was four? I read every single one. I could never get enough. Every word brought me a little closer to him.
