I spent a little time deliberating whether or not I should write a post about this. It’s obviously a bit of super personal information about me, and I wasn’t totally sure I was ready to put it on the internet. But, after all, I’ve said more than once that this blog is the story of my journey to The Purple House, and this past weekend I reached a critical landmark on that road.
That’s my left hand. There’s a diamond ring on it. For the exceptionally dim-witted among you: as of Saturday, September 3rd, The Boy and I are officially engaged.Now I could use the rest of this post to tell you how much I love him, or how he proposed, or what we’re planning to do for the future. And you’ll probably get all of that, eventually. But right now seems like a good time to tell you all the real story of the Purple(st) House. Oh sure, some of you may remember this post with the cute back story behind my violet obsession. But the dream of The Purple House was born long before I realized it was purple.
I’ll explain: The Boy and I were good friends in high school but, as is often the case, over time we grew apart and fell out of touch. We hadn’t spoken in at long time when I came home for Thanksgiving during my freshman year of college. On a whim, I gave him a call. I don’t really remember why, I suppose I was bored and lonely. After two minutes of awkward exchange I hung up and thought, Oh well, that’s not going anywhere. At least I tried.
But that summer a series of seemingly random circumstances conspired to bring the two of us together again. We started spending more and more time together, and our camaraderie was effortless. It was one of those magical, sun-drenched summers. We walked in the woods, ran from the cops, and fell asleep on his trampoline. It was one of those rare moments in life when everything comes together at once in perfect, random order. I was reading Ayn Rand, I had a minimum-wage job that required almost zero responsibility, and I’d rediscovered this awesome friend who cared about what I had to say and didn’t mind carrying my shoes if I felt like going barefoot. I felt liberated, in touch with The Wonder of the Universe, unstoppable. As the summer came to a close I remember turning to The Boy and saying “I know it’s impossible, and I would never wish for it, but if I had to spend the rest of my life frozen in one moment in time, it would be this summer.” I still feel that way.
It was inevitable: by the end of August we both knew we were in love. But the transition from friends to something more is never easy. It’s frustrating, and maddening, and painfully awkward. Due to a lot of stupid reasons it took a very long year for The Boy and I to get our respective acts together. It was one of those silly situations where it seemed like we couldn’t both be in the same place at the same time. I like to laugh about it now but back then I felt heartbroken. A small part of me already knew I wanted to spend my life with this person, but it just didn’t seem like it would ever happen.
So, like a normal and sane person, I created a bookmark folder of inspiration for the house The Boy and I would own together one day. The house that would eventually become The Purple House. During that year of arguing, and crying, and negotiating and covert kisses that confused us both, I was secretly picking out our future wall treatments. I recognize that this sounds like crazy stalker behavior, but we’re engaged now so it’s totally acceptable. Anyway, the point is I’ve been steadily adding to this folder for about four years and in honor of my new engagement, I’d share a few bits and pieces with you all:
That stove! Antler chandelier! What a fun little home.
A pretty print.
A fun door made from silly flashcards (plus, it’s orange).
I love cacti.
A cabin hideaway.
Our future Christmas bulbs?
I can’t wait to collect my own eggs every morning.
Such sweet stairs.
What a fun way to store your clothes.
Also, just the other day The Boy and I were just talking about suspending our bed.
This is just a sample of the billions of random images and links I’ve stashed away. Thank you so much to everyone that’s called/texted/contacted me on facebook in the last few days, your kind comments mean so much to me.