Ivy meets Forest

Ten years ago today I was in Champaign, Illinois, in a tiny coffee shop at a tiny table with a giant book in  front of me. It was basically a blizzard outside, and my eyes kept wandering toward the whiteness out the front window and toward the clock on an adjacent wall. I tried to look busy with the giant book and the glass of herbal tea beside me, but what I was really doing was waiting. Waiting for Forest.

I wasn't sure why I was sitting there, waiting for him. All I knew was that for a nearly a month I could not shake a very compelling feeling that I was supposed to talk to him. This feeling was so unrelenting that I could not ignore it, and finally I sent this rather abrupt email, out of the blue:

     Hi Forest,

        Sorry to be so sudden, but can I talk with you sometime?

    From

    Ivy

He was sure to be puzzled by it. He barely knew who I was, except that I was one of the activity planners at church who sometimes did music-y things. I barely knew who he was except that he was the painfully shy masters student who always sat in the back row. I'm not even sure how I had his email address, as there were very few instances where we would have been in touch previously.

Despite the cryptic nature of the message, however, he was gracious enough to reply:

     Ivy,

 Sure, no problem. Let me know when you want to. My number is xxx-xxxx in case you dont have it. Talk to you later,

     Forest

So I called him. I probably sounded pretty serious on the phone--all business. Partly because I was terrified, partly because I didn't want to sound like an overly anxious boyfriend-seeker. 

What WAS I doing, anyway? Just blindly following that feeling in my gut. That feeling that came even stronger when I knelt to pray at night. Was there a reason for that? Was Someone trying to tell me something? That All-Knowing Someone to whom I turned daily for divine direction and guidance? Was this a spiritual prompting of some kind? Or was I subconsciously crushing on a guy I hardly knew?

These questions kept spinning in my mind as I sat waiting in that coffee shop, in the middle of a snow storm. 

Finally, he walked through the door and sat down in front of me. I felt nervous and awkward, still having no answers to all of those questions and uncertain how to justify our visit. Somehow, the conversation happened, anyway, and gradually I relaxed. His blue eyes appeared pierce and searching, but he never once asked the specific reason for our meeting. An hour and a half went by. We were still talking at that tiny table in that tiny coffee shop, and the snow was still coming down on Green Street. My questions were still unanswered, but that feeling in my gut felt a little less like nausea. I felt strangely at peace.

Upon discovering that I had walked there from my dorm, Forest offered me a ride home. He dropped me off and both of us went on with our days, as usual--although one of my dorm-mates, upon seeing me in the hallway, noted that I looked unusually happy.

That little coffee shop is long, gone, now. It went by a different name for a while, until eventually it just became an extension of the Irish pub that used to be a couple of doors down.

Still, memories of that spot and that time in my life are still around. They were especially vibrant when Forest and I were back in Champaign just a few weeks ago, sneaking a date into our great Illinois adventure. It was just the two of us, back on our old stomping grounds. Dinner at Radio Maria, a freezing cold walk around the quad and by our engagement photo tree, some mugs of hot chocolate at Espresso Royale by the music building, a quick jaunt to the roof of Krannert Center. My appendages felt frozen, but my heart felt warm remembering the setting where our story began.

The next morning we went for another walk, this time around the Engineering side of campus. Forest's old building was still standing.

And Alma Mater was polished and updated--much less green than it was during our time there.

We jokingly wondered if we could still pass as grad students, strolling campus. It's funny, when we were in grad school we were so eager to be done with it, and while I am happy to have moved on, it's mostly just the sweet memories of that time that remain.

The day after I met Forest at that Green Street Coffeehouse, I got this email from him:

I realized then that maybe there was a reason why I was supposed to talk to him. Ten years later, I am still learning more reasons why it was so important for us to be together. Thanks for writing me back, Forest. <3