Best Valentine's Day Ever (sorry, it's a very long post)

We had the greatest guys at my school in Sweden. GOD bless every one of them. One of the teachers once said, 'As go the guys, so goes the school,' and so I believe that those godly men are a big part of why our year was so wonderful.

One day they did all of our chores for us. At Christmas, they put up our huge tree for us in front of the main building (as all we girls yelled from our warm rooms for them to hurry up so we could take our pictures). Every day they were gentlemen, holding doors, letting us go first in lines, giving up their seats. But for Valentine's Day, they outdid themselves.

The fun started at 2:30 when we girls were banished to our dorm, not allowed to come downstairs (as that was where the dining room was). As they secretly decorated and prepared everything for the dinner, we girls decorated and prepared ourselves. Curling irons, make-up, and our best clothes were strewn everywhere throughout the dorm. Hustling from one room to the next, frantically asking if we could borrow this or that, offering to help with a clasp or a clip, we girls were in our element.

At 5:30, we were told we had to be in our own rooms. The boys would be drawing our names from a hat to see who their dates would be, and would be coming up to fetch us. And so we nervously sat in our rooms with our roommates, speculating as to who might have our names (also praying that we wouldn't be the last one chosen, as it would be extremely nerve-wracking to be the last one in our rooms, with no moral support).

Naturally I wanted Sven to have my name, but naturally I knew it wouldn't happen. And so I just prayed that it wouldn't be one specific boy who gave me nothing but trouble.

Finally there was a knock on one of the doors. There was a squeal as we all knew it had finally begun. And then my roommates and I sat there. It seemed like we were the last room to get a boy. And then there was a knock on our door. We all looked at each other and nervously giggled. We opened the door, and there stood Nick, the boy from Wisconsin with all the piercings who I felt a strange bond to, seeing as we were the only ones from the midwest. Sadly, his rose was not for me. And so our first roommate was snatched up. There came another knock. This time it was T.J., the boy who very sadly seemed slightly more than slightly gay (no school is perfect). He was for me. I was disappointed, but reminded myself that I was glad it wasn't that other boy, and besides, this one not only had a rose, he had chocolate. I set my chocolate on my bed, gave my last two roommates a smile of nervousness for them, and was escorted down the stairs.

The decorations were beautiful. There were hearts everywhere, and candles, and bottles of sparkling cider. The guys looked their best, and we girls looked ours. It was fun seeing who was matched up with whom, and the whole foyer was a buzz of excitement. I was thoroughly enjoying it all.

Until Sven came down the stairs with his date. Then the world stopped, I didn't hear or see anything else, and a flood of hurt washed over me, making me want to break down and cry. My heart felt like someone had ripped it out and was stomping on it. I could handle the fact that he didn't have my name. But I couldn't handle the fact that he had someone else's.

I don't know how long I stood there watching him, or how I came out of that aching trance, but I'm guessing it was either T.J. or Kimberly who finally called me back to reality. After that moment I had a wonderful evening, with remarkable food, entertainment, and company. The nice thing about going with T.J. was that I was totally comfortable. He and my roommate Kemps were good friends, so he was around a lot when we were hanging out, and he had that gayness to him, too, which left no room to be giddy, dorky, or awkward. Knowing me (especially back then) it would've been hard to be on a fake date with someone I found attractive or didn't know very well.

After dinner we went over to the chapel/classroom/only big open room, for a special Backstreet Boys concert (the guys who performed were great - definitely swoon-worthy ;) ) and some games (including passing a clementine down a row of people using just our necks). When it was all over, they walked us home, and we headed up to bed. Shortly thereafter, however, we heard more squeals, and ran to look out the windows of the rooms that overlooked the front drive. There were our guys, serenading us with 'You've Lost that Lovin' Feeling.' It was fantastic.

And so, that was the best Valentine's Day I've ever had, and I'm guessing will ever have. (Even if someday there's a hubby, he won't be able to top the squealing girls and the 48 boys, and the bond we all had.) One of my favorite Sweden memories.