I was cleaning my room just now and saw my planner from last year that I haven’t thrown out yet. On curiosity, I turned to a year ago October…and found this. It was our second date, penned in, when I was still referring to him sometimes as Salvatore. He cooked for me, I made dessert, we watched The Godfather, listened to classic rock, talked…it was a very special night. 

I remember that he texted me near around the time when he was supposed to get there that he would be a little bit late. I remember thinking, “Oh great…another one that’s never going to show up on time.” Turns out, he had to completely remake the pasta sauce (what we call gravy) because the other one had spilled. 

And there it was. Right in my planner…

I flipped through the pages and found that I had penned in a lot of our dates…I wrote down The Nutcracker, the Celtics game, his best friend’s birthday party, our date night at the local hippie restaurant for Breakfast Night. It was all there. 

I can’t throw it out yet.