Ian and I had been going out for a couple months, and we were having a lot of fun. One night we went on a date to Noodlehead in Shadyside where we shared great food and an awesome bottle of chardonnay (we still have the cork <3 ). Afterwards, we headed next door to Oh Yeah! ice cream parlor to get some dessert. The experience could not have been more of a bust from a customer standpoint. They gave us both the wrong ice cream combinations, and Ian got a surprise red ingredient which was only brought to his attention when I asked, "What's the red stuff?" We never did find out... The experience had us laughing the whole time. Finally when we were finished braving our ice cream concoctions, Ian went to throw away our containers. Unfortunately for him, the trashcan was located up three steps. He tripped and went down imediately after the first step. Luckily he survived and we laughed even harder than before. It was in that very moment that I knew that he was the one. I had found my perfect person in the most imperfect moment.
I lived in what most would consider a tiny house – a square, red carriage home with four rooms and less than 400 square feet. It was tucked away in the backyard of an aging two-story that was painted an odious shade of pink. To reach it, a mismatched network of cement paving blocks led between the neighbor’s fence and the pastel façade, culminating at the steps of my porch where there used to be a wooden swing. In place of the swing, I had strung my hammock. It quickly became my favorite respite from the cramped abode - a place to daydream. When Megan and I started dating, the hammock was one of our favorite places to spend time. While the cozy confines of my home brought us together, the hammock rendered us inseparable. We would watch the squirrels and rabbits that bounded around the small yard and listen to the train running along the river in the distance. Even entombed in our floating nook, I felt the need to be closer. She was my dream girl caught in my dream catcher strewn across the porch.