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Our little love story: Part I - Before we met

In the last few months I've been thinking a lot about how lucky I am to have my Joe. He's this totally crazy person who can act like a 6-year-old anytime we're shopping and making strangers laugh with us. He's this caring protector I have in the world so far away from the rest of my family. He's the best friend I've ever had who knows me more than anybody else (sometimes it's almost scary how well we got to know each other). He's the love of my life and I can't think of anything that made me to deserve to be a part of his life. It's been a giant blessing that I met him that one morning that totally changed my life.

These days I came to a conclusion that the crazy love story of ours could be a good material for writing it down. It has it all - the ups and downs, international travels and long distance relationship, wonderful trips and managing finances, romance and looots of paperwork. And it seems to be really interesting to me so I figured out you may want to read it too. The short version of our story is the first blog post on this website, you might have already read it. This time I'm going to write it down all..

Part 1: Before we met

Last year when I was visiting my parents in Europe I found a diary from the year when I met my Joe. It was hidden in a bookshelf in my old bedroom right next to the entire series of Princess Diaries books (update: I just googled it to check on the proper name of the book and I don't have the entire series, just 8 or 9 books, if that's any better).

I used to write a diary in certain periods of my life, but it never got to be anything consistent. I would write something down on January 1st (or right after Christmas when I got a nice notebook from my parents), continue for couple more days, then write something down after a 2 weeks window, then the window got longer and longer, until I admitted the diary process had ended. Then couple months or years later I would get or buy another journal and the entire process would start again.

That's exactly how it was in 2012. I got a journal and I didn't know what to do with it. I was 22 already and knew I'm not going to be consistent, but I gave it a try. I started a new job on January 2nd, I was about to start the second semester of my 4-semester master's and I was kind of lost between wanting to have a boyfriend and not finding one. It definitely seemed to be that kind of time where I would start a journal.

While reading the entries in my diary again in May 2016, 4 years after I wrote them, I felt really weird. I was reading about my plans to go to the US, about my struggle whether to go or stay, because I was starting to fall in love with one of my friends. I read about the decision to go, because he's not interested. And I read about handing over all this problems to God because I didn't know what else to do on my side. I was 22, I always knew I wanted to get married and have family, but I struggled terribly to find the one. It felt as the search for the one has influenced everything I was doing and it was starting to be overwhelming.

In August 2012 I gave up this entire "problem", told God I trust him in whatever plans he has for me, and took off. My American adventure began.

While reading the entries in my diary again in May 2016, 4 years after I wrote them, I felt really weird. Mostly because I realized for the very first time how unbelievably God answered my prayers. He took my troubles off of my hands and things started moving. Big time. All I needed to do was to give it up to Him.

When I came to the US I remember that it was the first time in years I wasn't looking for a boyfriend. As I was leaving home for a year abroad my friends would be joking and saying I'll find somebody there and will stay. I remember a Skype call with my friend, the one who welcomed me in her American home and I stayed at their house for most of my trip. Before I came to the US, she asked me if I'm dating somebody, because if not, she'll find me someone there. And I told over and over to everybody that I don't want to marry an American, I want to marry somebody from my country, somebody who speaks the same language and shares the same heritage. So when I came to the US I really was not looking for a boyfriend.

Can you believe I found him there? Can you believe he's not only from the same country, but from the same region as I, studied in the same city as I then lived, and even had some classes right across the street from the apartment where I lived with my parents? Can you believe he's a great friend of my friend, the one asking me on Skype if I'm dating anybody? And can you believe I was totally blind for the first few weeks I knew him and would never guess he would be the one?

Well, believe it my friends:) And stay tuned for the second part of our love story in which I meet my Joe for the very first time!

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