The 4th of July: A Love Story

Usually when you think of love in the air, you think of Spring.
Not for me. I think of July. The 4th to be exact. I thought I would recap not this year’s festivities, but those from a few years ago.

The first time I ever fell in love, we were halfway through the best summer of my life. Young and crazy – you remember right? The Eric Church song Springsteen had just come out. I couldn’t play that song enough.

I was 17, and it was the 4th of July. We were driving home from a fireworks show, however not in a Jeep like in the song. Plus it was a Friday night, not a Saturday. We were in his dad’s ’71 convertible and the sky was full of stars. If I remember correctly, it was my first time meeting his whole family. It was crazy, nerve-wrecking, wonderful, and magical. I was so worried about winning them over, I almost forgot to have fun. But I found a way and I will never forget how fun it was lighting my first bottle rocket.

I ate my weight in homemade ice cream – A 4th of July first for me, if you can believe it. We also spelled out l-o-v-e with sparklers and fancy cameras. It was amazing.

Not as amazing however as the ride home, with my hair blowing in the wind and the stars up above. There was nowhere else I would rather be. There was no one else I would have rather been with.

For me, 4th of July is more than Independence, Freedom, and Honor. It marks one of the moments I knew I was in Love. You never forget your first love. I’ll always love the 4th of July.

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