How I Met You
You know one day i’d love to have one of those moments where you sit down with your kids and tell them all about the first time you met their mother, as I’ve stated i’m a believer in true love and all that mushy stuff (Calm down arrogant and annoying me still exists he’s just on a time out!) but how awesome would it be looking on it now, the idea that the moment you set eyes on that person would be the first thing you end up telling your kids about. The way she was that one girl who you couldn’t take your eyes off or the day after you meet her you tell your best friends ‘So yesterday i kinda met this awesome person…’ and then that one act of fate that there always is that could potentially alter your whole future happiness, it’s as simple as picking up one simple bit of scrunched up paper that could lead to the words ‘…and that was how i met your mother’
Am i the only one who gets a warm feeling of genuine happiness when i think about moments like that, am i a sad bastard? i just generally think about the future and my friends, what’s gonna happen to us and stuff like that, but little things like the ‘How i met’ thing keep me going even when i’m rather down. Maybe that moments just around the corner or maybe you already have that moment you can tell people about, even if nothing happens i know that scrunched up bit of paper story brings a smile to my face and i don’t care if it’s stupid after all it’s how i met…. well maybe i’ll tell you that another time. Then again even that compared to another story is small, compared to this one girl. I could actually imagine telling my kids how i met her, the way she always pulled these crazy faces, or her smile lit up when she recounted this one crazy thing one of her friends did or even that adorable thing she does where she calls you an idiot yet gives you that smile to follow it up which blatantly says ‘Ich Liebe Dich’.
So maybe that story is how i met her, maybe it isn’t. Now i really understand why you have to re account every little piece of detail when you tell that one story, every page, every chapter, it’s all worth it in the end. Even if that girl isn’t the mother of your future children you still remember the first time you told them you loved them and then even if that is the most haziest moment of your memory and you don’t talk to them anymore, they’re important because in that moment you really were in love and that says just as much about them as it does you and it says everything about love…
After all, every time that story ends no matter happy or sad, it’ll relate to that short sentence you’ll be recounting to the doughy eyed loves of your life in the future, who’ll remind you of the first time you braved it and reached for that one special girls hand and never let go.
“…And that kids is how I met your Mother.”