The first time I came to Washington, DC I was in middle school. We were herded around in a couple of busses and taken to the Capital, the monuments, and the museums. The powerful impression of these things was not lost on me, but being 14 I was more excited about eating junk food and playing epic rounds of Rummy and Speed on the bus with my friends.
The next time I was in DC I was equally as distracted. I came with my boyfriend who had accepted a job here and needed help finding an apartment. Everything seemed wonderfully exciting and disastrous at the same time. I didn’t want our happy dinner-together-every-day relationship to fade into a talk-on-the-phone-once-a-day one. I couldn’t even imagine it. But I also wanted him to be happy and grow his career. What was a girl to do? Be positive when I wanted to pout like a 4 year old and plan a fantastic going away dinner for my man.
The dreaded long distance did come to be and it wasn’t so bad. My visits to DC became more fun and more frequent. The city and the boyfriend were becoming better and better at completely winning me over.
So when the boyfriend became the fiancé it was clear where we would live once married. So we planned and I packed. We gathered all our friends and family together to say “I do” in the North Carolina mountains and now we are one week in as husband and wife. We’ve honeymooned and road tripped, hung artwork, and taken turns making breakfast. We’re home. Home sweet home.