I've had several special friends in my lifetime, but most of them have become a part of my past life, and are no longer where I can visit with them. However, I know that most of them would again be ready to take up the friendship again if the circumstances brought us back together. But I don't have to worry about that with my very best friend. He is my husband.

We never met, formally, but had known each other growing up. He lived a little over a mile from me, and spent a lot of time with my two older brothers and my father. But to him, I was just their sister/daughter. He had plenty of girlfriends, and he wasn't interested in a girl who wasn't especially pretty or popular. So we remained just friends, and after graduation, each of us went our separate ways.

We had both been part of a larger school until the last two years of school, when we changed schools to graduate from the new one in our hometown. There had always been a grammar school there, but this was the first year that there was a high school, and we were in the small junior class, and rode the same bus. We still didn't date, but we were thrown together more with the small class than we had been with the larger class in the much larger school. We worked together on floats, money-raising projects, etc. And he still spent a lot of time with my father and brothers.

Fast-forward 35 years. I had gone to the larger school's class reunion in May of that year, and it started me on the road to organizing a reunion for our class. Since our class had been so small, we decided to include the class that was ahead of us, as well as the two after us. On the night before the actual reunion was held, we both attended the football game, which was the last home game of the season. We met during halftime and visited the rest of the game. When we decided to leave, we went back to where I had been helping decorate for the reunion; the place was locked and dark. He suggested we go eat somewhere; when we got run out of there because they wanted to close up (about 2 hours later), we headed for the house I was renting, where we talked until after 2 am. He spent the night in one bedroom, and I slept in the other; we wanted to make sure we were serious enough to be more than just friends.

After the reunion, I didn't see him again for over two weeks, but then he came to see me. After that, we began spending a lot of time together, and he introduced me to his mom after Thanksgiving; we spent Christmas together, also. But it was June before he decided to ask me to marry him. We married on July 28, 1995.

Since then, we have had a few problems, but we both feel that we have married our best friend. He and I can talk about almost anything that comes up. I know most of his secrets, and he knows most of mine. Any secret we don't know is because the subject that would lead to its revelation hasn't come up in our conversations yet. His children and my children all know that he and I will be together the rest of our lives; we kid about not doing so, but we both smile with love at the other when we do so.

Yes, my husband is the very best friend I have ever had. And I don't want to even look for another who might be better; he makes me very happy, and content. I love my best friend, and it's a good thing-he's my husband!

Learn more about this author, Barbara A. Black.
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