I didn't consider my boyfriend to be the best looking guy in the room when I first met him. My ex's and guys I'd been with were better looking, face wise anyway, and fit a certain criteria that most young women identify as, for lack of a better term, hot. I was superficial in that regard, it's human nature, I make no apologies for that. I wasn't at all attracted to him physically at first. I was chatting away with the better looking guys at this student mixer we were at, being drawn to those guys who met the visual for me and he sort of was in the background. The first thing I noticed about him was that he had this really dry sense of humor (which I love) and the people around him were laughing and I wanted to be a part of that so I drifted over. There he was surrounded by a group of his friends telling them this really funny story about being reject by a girl. He was so straight faced and self-deprecating and didn't seem to mind that he was the brunt of his own jokes. Although I still wasn't thinking I want to be with this guy, instead it was more along the lines of I wanting to know him and be his friend. That's how it started.
We hung out together with friends for about two weeks, very casual, he never made a move on me. He was just so considerate, a good listener, never in a bad mood, and with that always lifting the spirits of the people in his orbit, including me.
A group of us went to an outdoor concert one night and I was feeling a little claustrophobic and needed to get out and he led me through the crowd to an open field far from the stage and we ended up ignoring the music and talked for a couple of hours about where we grew up and what we wanted to do in life. At one point I just remember looking at him and thinking he was such a great person and that he looked really sexy. I knew he'd never make the first move so I totally jumped him. Couldn't help myself. The rest is history, and damn good one at that.
