I'm gonna start by embedding a tweet I posted back in 2013:
being so enamored with someone that you can't say hi without looking away and blushing is somewhat inconvenient when you're 27
— Hanna Scott (@fffilth) October 24, 2013
That tweet was about my future husband, when we were just coworkers and had only spent a small amount of time together. I tweeted that after running into him in the office kitchen and discovering that all of my words had gone into hiding. He is the only one that has ever made me feel that way.
Fast forward almost 2 years, through patient (usually, anyway) waiting for our paths to cross in the right way, through other relationships that were terrible for us, through 6 states, through happy hours, through new jobs, through future plans, and through many manymanymany kind, open conversations, and we end up here:
For a long time, I've had a thing for Michelangelo Antonioni's extremely uneventful 1970 movie Zabriskie Point, but I've really had a thing for the amazing soundtrack that accompanies it. This place has been on my must-visit list for years, but I never thought I'd go because it's so isolated and so hot. Pep and I like to go places, so we decided to go here. We drove 5 hours, checked into the Furnace Creek Ranch at 8pm in the breezy 110 degree heat, had ourselves a nice dinner, and then set our alarms for 4am to watch the Perseid meteor shower from Zabriskie Point, eventually photographing the sunrise.
I woke up feeling great, and continued to feel great until literally the actual second that the sun started to rise. And then I suddenly felt bad. Really, really bad. So bad that I had to tell Pep we couldn't stay and that we needed to go back to our room a few miles away so I could throw up, because I was not going to let that be my memory of my beautiful Zabriskie Point. So we drove away from our stars, I traded my sunrise for a hotel bathroom, and then we fell asleep.
I woke up at 7am with the sunlight reflecting waves of heat onto the wall next to me, and told Pep that I felt good enough to try again. It was already 100 degrees, we had totally missed the sunrise, and my stomach was shaky, but we drove back and hiked up the short path that leads to the Zabriskie Point overlook. Pep found a path that led down the rocks in front of the overlook that created some shade for us to sit in, I took some photos, and then my best friend asked me to marry him.
It sounds simple because it is simple. We fit like few people ever do, and I know that I'll wake up 10, 20, 30, 40, 50+ years down the road and still witness a wave of love and appreciation flowing over me when he looks at me. I will never get over him.