Butterflies.
She feels them the moment she wakes up, fluttering around in her stomach. Buzzing around her head. They make her smile before she's even opened her eyes, fluttering around memories flashing under her eyelids.
One year. And a whole load of butterflies.
She checks the time, just past 7am - the middle of the night for him, but she can't help her fingers hovering over his contact name, quickly typing out a message for him to wake up to.
Happy one year bb. I loveeeeee you. ♥️💋
Still smiling, she clicks on the photo she'd saved under his contact, his crinkling eyes lighting up her phone screen like they've lit up her life in the last 365 days. She'd taken it when they were just in Amsterdam, early in the morning and he'd only just woken up, his hair still mused from sleep. But his eyes are light up, his smile wide, just for her. Always for her.
She'd had butterflies a year ago, too. Every moment of the day is etched in her memory: lunch with Keleigh, lounging around her LA home and letting her friend in on 1989 (Taylor's Version). Dinner. A whole lot of wine, and laughter. A message from Miles - and then, there he was.
Travis.
Her Travis, the man she never saw coming. But boy, is she glad he did. Everything had changed since that fateful day last July, and somehow she finally felt like she had found the love she'd been writing about the last 18 years. She just never imagined she'd find it in the form of a 6 foot 5, hunky, goofy, American football player.
The podcast video had made her laugh, shake her head and giggle, but Keleigh revealed that she actually knew his sister-in-law pretty well. 'Kylie loves him like her own brother. He's so good with her girls. He's funny, too. Miles knows him a little. I can get you his number? I know you've been through hell, but I think you guys would be a good match'.
She remembers looking at her with a raised eyebrow, a what the fuck look conveyed across the room to her friend. But then they watch it again - and a few other videos too - and somehow she gathers the confidence to say yes.
She has his number a mere 30 minutes later, and it's definitely the wine that propels her to message him. It takes a while, his response, but when it comes they both laugh, and if she's being honest, he had her hooked from that moment on.
No way THE Taylor Swift is actually messaging a jabroni like me. Gonna need some proof you're not fucking with me.
She'd sent a picture in response, and they quickly fell into a conversation that lasted all evening, long after Keleigh had left, squeezing her arm and sharing a playful smile. It was 3am before she even noticed and insisted they both go to bed, before promising to FaceTime the following day.
The next morning when she wakes up, the butterflies make their first appearance.
Can't quite believe last night wasn't a dream, but I'm glad to see evidence on my phone it wasn't! Good morning, Tay. Can't wait to speak to you and see your beautiful face later.
The use of the nickname doesn't go unnoticed, and she grins like an idiot the rest of the day, texting him here and there when he can respond, in the depths of football training camp. She calls Keleigh, fills her in on developments, and nervously chews her fingernails while waiting for her phone to ring later that evening.
The butterflies were back then too.
They quickly disappeared though, when she caught sight for herself of the moustache he'd warned her about, the giggles erupting from her mouth before he can even say hello.
