Well That Didn't Work

FOR OUR PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE.

The Past
For the Columbia crash. For introducing yourself as the future President. For the conversations throughout B.A.T.E.X. For the conversations the following weekend (during which we spoke more than we slept.) For the chess games. For having never felt awkward. For an email attachment of chicken noodle soup. For the coin collection and the bloody nose. For Johnny Rockets. For the froofy mall. For wanting a trophy wife. For Valentine's Day at the Bloomfield Ave. Cafe. For Vanilla. For the Phunky Burrito. For the sex arcade game there. For our first kiss on the bottom bunk bed. For the pansy in all of us. For the ice cream the next week. For asking my last name. For the official date request. For timid kisses. For our one month anniversary. For wanting to steal the Eiffel Tower from the French. For seeing movies. For dealing with a misguided objectivist. For moving trashcans. For going beyond kissing. For stargazing kisses. For every joke. For your three month surprise in your attic. For my first love letter. For five page notes. For gum in my hair. For rubber duckies around the world. For lists of "becauses." For sweet Samantha's and darling Dennis'. For being your beautiful. For : kiss )'s. For your Lincoln-Douglass debate sweatshirt. For playing baseball in the pouring rain. For "jew food." For being mouth-watering, jaw-dropping, tongue-rolling-out-on-the-floor-while-your-eyes-bulge-out-and-your-ears-smoke-and-you-hear-a-big-aoooga!-outta-nowhere-like-in-looney-tunes hot. For you believing you're as handsome as I tell you that you are. For killing cows. For Cinnabons. For being scared of being apart all summer. For not being afraid anymore. For the huge phone bills. For phone, um, hooking up. For our first college talk. For our first tears together. For every instance where you win and every other heterosexual male loses. For "best girlfriend ever." For a sapphire ring. For getting my driver's license. For Six Flags. For a car accident. For sitting by my pond late at night. For your license. For that fact that I'll always call you Mr. Senders. For every trip down the Garden State Parkway. For dinner at your grandmother's house. For your family's belief that we're engaged. For your birthday party. For Beneli's. For ordering only breakfasts at diners. For the first day of senior year. For cancer and physical abuse. For a love bean. For Sir Bunny and the Wokworm. For a rambling 5:00am email and holes in Britney Spear's clothing. For karaoke night. For college applications. For essay editing. For confidence. For falling asleep in each other's arms. For riding your bike really, really fast. For Frank Sinatra. For Hannukah. For Christmas. For New Year's Eve. For falling in love. For Gobblers. For international phone calls from Spain. For a traveling rubber ducky. For pressed flowers in a notebook. For our one year anniversary. For a long car ride to Connecticut. For the great conversation we had while stuck in traffic on the way home. For swing dancing. For mania. For another car accident. For the Producers. For Applebee's. For Chicago. For Billy Joel. For sleeptalking. For a forbidden night spent together when no one was watching. For spaghetti. For The Producers. For more cancer and a third car accident. For new clothes. For hair gel that smells like grapefruit. For a crappy dress. For a crappy prom. For a good prom. For an amazing waffle. For a long walk on the boardwalk. For those talks. For graduation. For everyone writing to take care of me in your yearbook. For another summer apart. For Dave and Buster's and playing with puppies. For wanting to strangle each others' families. For an amazing birthday. For Billy Joel music. For The Who. For emails of love song lyrics. For a poem you wrote that I never saw. For all the bad. For all the good. For the knowledge that the good crushes the bad. For a beautiful orchid. For freckles and a stripe. For being here together. For asylum lighting. For the last year and a half. For every seemingly insignificant detail that I can't remember right now. For every kiss. For hope. For love.

The Present.
For knowing we can get through this. For my confidence. For our kisses. For love.

The Future
For four amazing years of college. For a group of joint friends (The girls on the vault already have a bunch of friends in Lafayette and I love your entire P&V floor). For the metro rides. For going out. For growing together. For getting stronger. For enjoying the years Kerry is President. For getting apartments. For getting big beds for those apartments. For graduating. For getting accepted to graduate school. For completing graduate school. For real dates. For first jobs. For a proposal involving some cute fuzzy animal. For a heartfelt "yes." For planning the wedding. For pork. For personal vows. For a Frank Sinatra wedding song. For an amazing honeymoon that we can't afford. For an apartment together. For decorating. For building our pool with stone-looking concrete. For taking "sick days." For sex in the morning. For sex at night. For breakfasts in bed. For cleaning up after that fuzzy animal. For doing dishes. For watching tv. For jokingly arguing over the remote even though we both know that we'll end up watching Law and Order (as long as TNT is still a network.) For going out. For staying in. For buying a car. For running for office. For vacations everywhere. For paying bills. For buying groceries. For every bad day. For every promotion. For every victory. For every minute day-to-day event. For greying hairs. For knowing we're going through everything together. For knowing that "together" wouldn't be better with anyone else. For life. For love.

Please don't give up. We have nothing to lose, but so much to gain.
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