I knew I was Aaron’s the first time we kissed. We were sitting in his car—like we had dozens and dozens of times—friends who’d come to trust one another implicitly. Years of coffee and movies and late night phone conversations had refined a fierce loyalty between us. Our friendship had drawn us into trust that gave freely, without demanding gratification. We’d grown to be for one another, even as we navigated feelings for others and feelings between us in alternating, mistimed beats.
But that night, that first cosmic evening, nothing was mistimed or misplaced. In my ordinary driveway his eyes locked on mine, and he risked confessing what he wanted and hoped. My heart swelled. I saw with clarity his selfless and steady love, chasing a deeper story for us. He stopped speaking, and we held the silence for one infinite instant—an instant when everything I cherished about him reeled through my mind. And in response, I grabbed his collar, pulled him in and gave him my heart there under the stars.
As we kissed, I felt his arms wrap me up, as if he knew the tender dreams and doubts that I’d laid out before him in that moment.
He’s never let go.
Two weeks ago, on my porch, by that driveway, Aaron asked me to be his bride. My answer came easy. It was an “Of course and absolutely!!” reflecting months of “yes”s given as I’ve leaned into the wild goodness of a love that has surprised me in it’s safety and risk, it’s depth and playfulness.
The New Year ushers in a pledge Aaron and I have been walking towards for a very long time—if you ask Aaron, he’ll tell you he’s been walking since a week after last Valentine’s Day. At that point, I didn’t have a sense of the story like Aaron did. Today, I’m stunned at how it unfolded in it’s own messy, raw, perfect way.
From my first night of pulling him in for that kiss to doing it all over again the night he offered me his world from down on one knee, I’ve learned that loving Aaron requires my most honest, alive, surrendered self. He’s one of those choices that has changed everything—my best and deepest yes.
Katy Johnson lives, dreams, writes, and edits in a messy, watercolored world. She’s a 25 year old, discovering her hope, her longings, and the wild spaces in her own heart. Her favorite creative project right now is called The Someday Writings, and someday, she may let those writings see the light of day. For now, she shares her thoughts here.