This time of year holds a lot of special memories for me. It was during these summer months, six years ago, that Riley and I fell in love.
One of our first dates was at the fair. We weren't really a couple yet, but we were both pretty sure that's where it was headed. It was a really rainy summer, and as we stood in line for the first ride, we looked anxiously at the dark clouds that had started brewing above. All of a sudden, the skies opened and it started pouring down rain. We began running for the nearest shelter, along with the throng of other fair goers. Then, right in the midst of the hustle and bustle, in the pouring rain, Riley stopped in his tracks, grabbed my hand, and pulled me in for a kiss.
And that's the story of our first kiss. I tried not to worry too much afterwards about the damage the pouring rain had done to the hair and makeup I had painstakingly worked on earlier. Because I can surely appreciate when a man recognizes, and seizes, a romantic moment.
We went to the fair again this weekend. It always sounds better in theory than it is in real life. In reality, it's kind of dirty and stinky, crowded, and overpriced. But then, when we ride the ferris wheel, and we're hanging there above it all, I look down at the sight below and appreciate it for the memory it holds for me. Of that rainy summer night that was the start of something wonderful.