Love Story- Guest Blog



“Do you remember when we met?” he asked me intently, as we thumbed through photos on our phones from our early years of dating.

“Yeah,” I said, not paying too much attention. “It was in marching band in college.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he said.

I sat up from my slumped position in bed, searching him with an inquiring eye.

“Uh, yeah we did,” I answered back in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No, we met in jazz band.”

“Potato, potahto,” I answered back.

After that short exchanged, my husband Jonathan gave a rather detailed description of the day he sat in on jazz band rehearsal at the college where we met. He remembered being nervous as he unpacked his trombone and sat in the second seat from the right. He didn’t want to mess up the trombone part, especially because he was the only trombone player in the room.

“It didn’t help that I was sharing music with a pretty girl,” he said with a smile, concluding his recollection of the memory.

A choir of “awws” followed his lovely recount. I couldn’t believe how much he remembered about that day. All I remember was sitting down in the last seat on the right and sharing music with a really shy guy who was nervous and quiet. It probably didn’t help that the director was asking him to transpose my saxophone music from treble clef to bass clef. He did it anyway.

After coming as a prospect to our college, Methodist University in North Carolina, he joined the marching band, over which I was the drum major. I had a boyfriend at the time, and spent the majority of my free time with my nose in my textbooks or at meetings and events for the clubs I was in or the sorority I was a part of.

But Jonathan slowly became friends with my best friend Tyler. They started hanging around our apartments more and more and, soon enough, we started spending time together as a group. It wasn’t until a few months in to the school year when my then-boyfriend decided he wasn’t that in love with me and asked me to take a break.

It broke my heart, and it happened really early one morning, so early that my best friend who I was sharing an apartment with wasn’t yet awake. My friend Tyler lived off campus, so I called on the only person I thought would help. I called Jonathan.

He quickly made his way down to my apartment and spent the morning drying my tears and cheering me up. By the end of the day, I felt much better. Several weeks later, when my then-boyfriend and I decided to break things off, we were watching a movie together when he leaned in to me and said “Gabbie, I think I like you.”

“I think I like you, too,” I whispered.

We dated for several more years, got engaged, and then got married. We’ve been married for nearly two years now.

The funny thing is, we often get in to arguments about which type of instrument makes the best sound: a trombone or a saxophone. I always commend him for being able to play the trombone, because tooting out the right note is not always easy, since you must slide the trombone slide until you get to the right one.

Playing the trombone may be difficult, and you might have to get the slide just ride to play correctly, but loving him is easy. There’s no guessing. Even when things go wrong, or we argue, or we bicker, I know that the sound of our love is sweet, sometimes silly, but always pure.

And that’s how I fell in love with the trombone player in the second seat from the right.


Gabrielle Isaac Allison is a blogger, graphic designer, and marketing assistant from North Carolina. She holds a Mass Communications degree from Methodist University with a concentration in creative writing. Her favorite topics to blog are Christianity, Lifestyle, Entertainment, Mysteries, and more!


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