Scott captured my heart from an early age. We were a meeting of minds and spirits, with the same laid-back approach to life. Ours was a courtship of play. We met when we were eleven--climbed trees and played kick-the-can in the yard.
All during high-school, Scott and I maintained a platonic relationship, writing each other and hanging out occasionally. The spring Scott turned seventeen, it softly turned into something more. We never really spoke about the transformation of our affections into love, but with that first hesitant joining of hands, it was a change mutually acknowledged and understood.
Scott and I had been dating three years when my brother died, and the weight of that tragedy should have destroyed us. I knew when Scott asked me to marry him that the fabric of our relationship would always bear this flaw, yet we loved and were in love.
Even if I hadn’t already loved him, Scott would have been hard to walk away from; his commitment to our relationship through the gravity of my brother's death spoke volumes about his character. His loyalty was not some of who he was; it was all of who he was.