You’re still the one

I met Adonis Dante Outing when I was 12 years old. My family had just moved to Italy where my stepdad had been stationed at Aviano Air Force Base. You can imagine the whirlwind of emotions: emotional goodbyes, moving to another country, visiting a new school, etc. There’s not much I remember from the first day I met Donnie, but I clearly remember meeting two boys from my new school. They were sitting at the flagpole in the center of the courtyard (if you’re from Aviano, you know the one). One greeted me cheerfully… the other was my future husband. I know it sounds like a cheesy romcom, but when I first met my Donnie, his mouth was hanging open and didn’t say one word to me. He just sat there staring. It would forever be known as “frog mouth”. Of course I was going into 8th grade and he was going to 7th so romance couldn’t possibly be an option (I was more mature, after all), but I was always aware of him. That was until a certain 13th birthday party and Donnie was the first in all of Italy to crank that Soulja Boy in the middle of the dance floor (at least my pubescent brain thought he was the first). Surely we were in the same league now! So I marched right up to that boy, his brand new braces glistening in the light of the dance floor, and I kissed him! (Sorry, Moms!) For years later I would make fun of his “frog mouth”. I would go on to high school and he would remain in middle school another year. Our romance would fizzle, but my ears would always hear his name if someone spoke it. I’d find my eyes searching for him if by some chance I ended up on the 3rd floor. When he was a freshman he worked his charms again and we spent our last months in Aviano together. Ever since, we continued finding each other throughout our lives. The jokes on me because while I was looking confused at this gawking 7th grader, he was looking at his future wife for the first time… and I guess a gawk would be more appropriate.

I will always remember meeting Talisa Jeannette Aristide. I was staying after school with a friend on a Friday afternoon at the flagpole in Aviano, Italy. Little did I know I was about to meet the love of my life. She stood there in a pink polka-dotted skirt, and her Alicia Keys-inspired braids were blowing in the wind. For once, the boy who always had something to say was speechless. In place of words, my mouth hung open, and I missed the opportunity to make a good first impression. We now refer to this as the "frog mouth." Luckily, *Pirates of the Caribbean 3* was playing later that night at the theater, and I had a second chance. I totally crushed it. With no cell phone and sheer willpower, I spent that summer hoping to casually run into her. The Fourth of July came, and after a night of asking around about her, she finally showed up! We chatted for a little while before the fireworks started, and I delivered the best pickup line my 12-year-old brain could muster: "My hands are so cold," I said, holding my breath. Without skipping a beat, she held out her hand and said, "You can hold mine," and we held hands under the fireworks. I even got her Yahoo! Messenger account so we could spend the rest of the summer getting to know each other. Due to her 8th-grade status and my 7th-grade status, we knew we could never be. But we ran into each other as much as we could. We were in band together and even played on the same flag football team (though she tends to forget that part). Throughout the years, we'd share our stories, music, and art, and we spent our last few months in Aviano together. We found each other again later in life, and somehow, the frog mouth thing worked again. Who would have thought?