The 'Story'

(the only photo of us I snagged in the moment*)

That wasn’t very nice of me. I promised you ‘the story’ yesterday, and I was a no show.

Before I go on and on, you should know that Philip and I have known each other and maintained a heart-wrenching but amicable friendship for quite some time. Though, from the end of year one to the end of year three, we were apart, divided between states. He in Washington D.C. Me in Boston. It was a tragic three years; just ask my sister.

On Sunday morning this past weekend, Philip had planned to invite me to a morning of Eastern Market activities. Have you heard of D.C.’s Eastern Market? It is a girls' dream- jewelry vendors, fruit stands, boutique pop up stands, and cafes close by with delectable brunch selections. Well, I walked right into his trap, on Saturday  afternoon, I pleaded that we go the market over the weekend, since we had yet to visit this summer season. I should have known he was up to something as he smiled and nodded agreeably. 

So on Sunday afternoon, we set out for the market. On our way, he mentioned going to see my old row house on Capitol Hill, since it's within walking distance to the market. After those three years of being apart, I greeted Philip with a bottle of vino in hand at that doorstep; let's just say, it was sa la vie after that.**

After Eggs Benedict and a few (ahem) Mimosas, we made our way to my old home. We explored the nostalgic streets and reminisced about my time there and the fall months of getting to know other, again. 

As we stood on the familiar street, Philip told me about a moment two years ago; as I opened the front door on that one evening, he knew I was the woman he loved, even after all that time. Following, a formal knee dropping, copious amounts of kisses and tears, and a little something shiny.***    

*Please excuse the mess I am- sans shower and makeup.   

**Prior to seeing him, I repeatedly told Leah, "I will not kiss him. I will not kiss him." She may have even prayed that I keep my wits about me; you ladies know what I'm taking about. Half a bottle of wine later, I broke that promise; melts my butter, that one.  

***More on that later . . .