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I saw you on Monday. I was in the cafeteria eating spaghetti with corn, and like an angel, you floated into the room, you and your posse of six other girls. It was love at first bite. As you stood in the lunch line, shining with radiant beauty, I made my move. I went for seconds of the corn. With all the suave and courage I could muster, I smiled at you as I passed through the wake of your awesomeness. I think you saw me. Yeah, I am pretty sure you saw me.

By Tuesday I found out your name. Turns out, one of the guys from my church knows a girl who went to school with two of the girls in your posse. So, I guess we were already friends… sort of. But it was not until free time that I knew fate was shining down on me, for it was then I discovered we were on the same team during that competition that consists of a series of really weird, and usually messy, relay games. I could only hope we would get tied together to serve as some target for water balloons and shaving cream.

On Wednesday, my heart skipped a beat when I caught you staring at me from behind your little plastic cup of Lucky Charms at breakfast. Yes, I did notice all of your friends start to giggle as you tried to play it off. I was flattered. And then, when your group of friends suddenly disappeared while we were all sitting at that picnic table during free time, I knew what was up. I seized the opportunity to get to know who you really were by asking deep questions like, “So, what’s your favorite color?” and “Do you like ska music?” As I suspected, we were a match made in heaven. 

Thursday morning the news was out. Your friends had saved a seat for me next to you at breakfast. At lunch, my friends watched in jealous self-loathing as I walked past them, carrying my square pizza and tiny salad, and sat with the ladies. During chapel, I saw you doodling our names with little hearts in your journal. As evening drew near and the sun was setting, I slyly came up with some lame reason why we needed to walk around together. One by one, the stars began to shine out into the darkness of night, and the soft glow of the moon reflected the smoothness of your face. Calculating my moment, I knew it was now of never. Looking around to make sure there were no chaperones in sight, I reached out, and grabbed your hand in mine. Fireworks exploded in the distance as a choir of angels sang out in unison… at least that is what I remember happening.

Now it is Friday, and our youth minister is packing up the church bus. You and I sit on that same picnic table where we shared so many experiences on Wednesday, reminiscing over all the good times we had in the last 36 hours. I promise I will write you. We will stay in touch, you will see. And perhaps, when I get a driver’s license I can borrow my dad’s car and come see you on spring break. I will never forget you, church camp girlfriend. Thanks for the memories…

Here’s to you, church camp romance!

P.S. If you have no clue what this post is about, check out the first one!


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