Just Call Me Laura Sparks

Exciting news on the wedding front: I have found my dress!

After seven shopping excursions and over thirty dresses, my third trip to David's Bridal proved to be a success. 

It was a strange experience to step in front of the mirror and KNOW that was the dress. 

I felt like the prettiest princess to ever look like a cloud.

...I don't even know what that last sentence means.

Anyway, mom and I were both very direct about it when we knew, and to avoid stares from the hordes of people in the store with us (including the lady in the next dressing room who had ELEVEN people with her) I didn't ring the bell. Sorry, sales associate who was with us.

I was hungry and ready to be done.

Now it's time to set my sights and stress further down the wedding list!

However, instead of writing another post about wedding stuff (don't worry--there will be more) (BTW HOW ARE FLOWERS SO EXPENSIVE)(THEY DIE AFTER A WEEK)(THEY ARE PRICEY DYING PLANTS), I thought it would be fun to reminisce and write a post about the beginning of my relationship with Joshua Cameron Davis.

Everyone knows that Audrey started it with an embarrassing facebook message showcasing me in Russian fortuneteller garb. Josh told her he wasn't interested, but then he stalked me and decided that he actually was, which led to two weeks of messaging and texting.

Now, if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a dude playing around. It was obvious to me that there was a spark and I was impatient as heck for him to do something about it.

I mean, if you're going to take so much of my time and energy, at least compensate me with food.

I finally sent him this:

(Back then, Josh used a lot of smiley faces because he was so daggum excited to be texting me.)

 I got the message and threw my fists in the air in victory.

A REAL, LIVE DATE.

I HAD MADE SOMEONE ASK ME ON A REAL, LIVE DATE.

Saturday rolled around and I went through the classic problem of what to wear.

I was meeting him at Cheddar's.

Casual?

Nice?

Casual?

Nice?

Screw it, I'm going casual with Audrey's nice sandals.

What I didn't count on was rod run traffic, which made me an hour and a half late. I tried to encourage Josh by texting him whenever my car was at a standstill, but he was half convinced he was being stood up. By the time I arrived, he'd been through two glasses of water.

I sidled up to the booth nervously and waved hello.

He jumped out of his seat, hugged me, and giggled.

Then we took turns going to the bathroom, which was when I texted Emma to tell her that OMG HE'S SO CUTE.

While we ate, we talked about travel, theology, and our jobs. Josh twisted his straw wrapper into nervous oblivion and I couldn't figure out what to do with my forearms. By the time we finished, it was too late to go bowling as he had planned, so we decided to go walking through the rod-runners because that's romantic.

However, when we got outside, it was raining.

Josh got nervous because he thought maybe I didn't like rain, but I told him, "I don't really care about my hair," (which was 75% a lie), and his eyes lit up. Off we went, sidestepping puddles and laughing at rod runners. We talked about family, dogs, and homeschooling, and we kept our hands in our pockets.

At the end of the night, he walked me to my car, gave me TWO hugs, and the world's most awkward back-of-the-head kiss. Then he was escaping across the parking lot to his car, and I was left trying to decide how I felt about it all.

DID I LIKE HIM?

WAS HE CREEPY?

WOULD WE GET MARRIED?

I stayed up til 2:00 texting Emma and Morgan about this.

I decided we needed another shot.

A few days later, we walked around the Patriot Park and had dinner at Chik-fil-a.

That's when I really started to fall for Josh.

He was nervous and dorky and told great stories about his childhood. We used accents and he talked to the ducks. 

He basically spoke my love language.

After the third date, which was that weekend, he met my parents.

Dad's first question was about what Josh planned to do with his life. The second was about gun control. I noticed that Josh was laughing more nervously than usual and he couldn't figure out what to do with his hands. 

He finally made it through and even stayed late that night to play board games with Audrey and me.

I was truly enamored.

The next Monday, he came back over and we took an evening walk around the neighborhood. He told me about the time he hacked a Plank out of a block of wood, and I laughed so hard I could barely breathe. We stopped for a while to look at the stars. He kissed my cheek. I held his hand. It was all Nicholas Sparks-y, except that nobody was dying.

That week, I prayed for a relationship with Josh Davis. God was giving me a peace about dating him, which nearly freaked me out because generally my prayers about boys are like this:

"Dear God,

I really like _____.

Can I date _____?

No?

Why not?

This has to be a mind trick.

I must not be hearing you correctly.

_____ is great!

Why doesn't _____ like me?

I WILL NEVER FIND SOMEONE AS GREAT AS ____.

Are you sure?

Let me recite this list of great qualities about ____.

.......

This is upsetting.

Fine.

I don't get to date ____.

Thank you for my singlehood.

You know what's best.

Good luck to ____.

Amen.

...but are you sure?"

This time, there was hardly a struggle. It was ok to date Josh.

YES.

When he picked me up that Saturday (with roses) (while my aunt, uncle, and cousins were all in the front yard), I was wearing this cute teacher-y getup.

He took me to The Island, where we ate, ran through the mirror maze, and rode the ferris wheel. When he finally asked me to be his girlfriend, I glanced at our clasped hands and said, "We're kind of already there, aren't we?"

He said that he wanted a Christ-centered relationship, which was almost as romantic to me as Mr. Darcy walking through the fog to tell Elizabeth how ardently he loved her.

Of course, it wasn't all stars and fairy dust. The ferris wheel was making dying whale noises and Josh smelled like the onions that had come on his burger at dinner. But it was wonderful enough for me.

Bla, bla, bla, the rest is history, we're getting married, and so on and so forth.