Part 2 of My Favorite Story

Ok, so part two!

You know those little, flirty texts you exchange and then have to keep yourself from smiling? Because if you smile, everyone else in the room will need to know who you’re talking to? Yeah. We started exchanging some of those. And the really awkward and embarrassing question of “how loud do you scream?” ended up being a great conversation starter.

We talked on the phone from time to time, getting to know each other. “So where did you grow up?” “What’s your family like?” “What made you want to go into ministry?” We laughed. A lot. And phone calls became a little more frequent.

I started evaluating everything I knew about Webb from college. And everything I saw about him while we attended church together (three years prior). I replayed the drive from the airport, how it was comfortable, easy and so much fun. And a “thought” turned into real, actual interest. I began to consider this guy named Webb and ponder all his possibly potential qualities.

But by March, I realized this interest was one-sided – my side. I knew he wasn’t in the same place. He had been quite honest about that (when we had the dreaded, horrifyingly awkward “define the relationship” talk.)

So, I pulled the e-brake. “I don’t really let many people get into these spaces of my life. And I just can’t keep opening my heart to you this way.” (I also knew he had some other “friends” with whom he shared his life. Totally normal for him, and probably the rest of the world. But just not doable for me.) I told him I didn’t want to keep up the talking.

I felt good about it. This was March of 2010 and I was happy to be back to my old, free-of-any-thought-of-a-relationship life. Things were simple. I missed talking to Webb in moments, but I felt a lot more sane! Things were good.

Until four months later. When my grandmother passed away my first inclination was to call Webb. That inclination made me angry. So I text instead. I was annoyed with myself for breaking my commitment to myself and my vow of silence. But...shrug.

…Texting, turned into phone calls, which turned into conversations, which…you get it. Our friendship continued…

By January of this year, I found myself feeling just like I did last spring. I needed this friendship to become something, or nothing. The land of the gray just wasn’t going to work out for me. Telling myself I’d be fine with either scenario, I sent an email. A very vulnerable email. And asked for the same sort of response - real. Which came three weeks later. (Three weeks. Yes. Three weeks. “Did you talk to each other in those three weeks?” you might ask. Yes, yes we did. For hours in fact. And Mr. Hoggard never found it timely to bring up the email. I was too stubborn to mention it. So I waited.)

And then…a text message.

I couldn’t believe two things: he was deciding to address the email and he was doing so through text. But it opened the conversation, so I listened.

“About your email…”

That night we realized that we didn’t have to know everything. We didn’t need to be perfect to try things out. We just needed to know that we wanted to know…and that much, we knew. So we took our first step. We wouldn’t make things official or public. We’d just not date other people and commit to learning more about each other.

That was February. And by March, we took the leap to make an actual visit. Well, actually, I took the leap. I got in the car with friends who were making a trip to NC and traveled 700 miles. My heart trapped somewhere between my toes and my throat. I had no idea what I would find. Would I actually like being with him? Would it be awkward? What would his family think? His church? Would he measure up to what he had portrayed on the phone? Would I feel comfortable with him?...

The questions turned as quickly as the tires on the interstate. We decided a meeting location where he would pick me up and my friends would drive on. I can’t lie; I wanted to drive on with them. It was an overwhelming moment. But we drove up and parked beside his truck, and I took a deep breath.

…