This might get long, and honestly, I don't expect you to read it..haha..I think I just need to write all of this.
I have been told many times in my life that timing is everything. That my long history of bad luck with the wrong kind of man would end right when it was supposed to, and that, as soon as I stopped looking for love I would find it.
I didn't believe a word of it.
But on a hot Fourth of July night, Fate stepped in. Fate. In the form of a 6'3" skinny Canadian.
The night I met BF I wasn't looking for love. I wasn't looking for anything, really, except a distraction from the hell going on in my life. Because that summer I was coming to terms with the fact that my father...my hero and one of my best friends...was dying of cancer.
And so, when BF and I started talking, I didn't think much of it. And on our first date, I didn't even try to hide to the pain that was dealing with, I didn't sugar-coat it. But when I told him what was happening, and he took my hand and looked at me with eyes that clearly ached for me and wanted to soothe the pain I felt, something deep inside me responded.
We fell in love quickly. The side-effect of jumping into a relationship in the middle of a hurricane. BF's life was no prettier than mine at the time. A hideous court case was breaking his heart and his wallet, and he needed me just as badly as I needed him.
But it was more than that. We were good together....SO good. He made me laugh, and he looked at me like I was the only person in the world. No one has ever appreciated my "crazy" more than he does. We spent the next few months alternating between the reality in our lives, and the heaven that was falling in love. Late night star-gazing, drive-in movies, long walks by the river. All of the late night phone calls and "firsts" that make the beginning of a relationship so amazing.
And I was there beside him in court when he needed to be. And he held me the night, four months after we met, when my dad passed away.
And together, we picked up the pieces.
We lived together 1/2 of the time, while the other 1/2 of the time he had his children (neither of us were ready for me to be a stepmom to children who had been through way too much already) . We moved on with our lives. We progressed from the first stages of a relationship, to the sweet familiarity that only comes with time. And still, our daily lives were loving and romantic. On more than one occasion, I came home from work to find my computer queued up to a love song with a note that said "press play." We danced in the kitchen as we made dinner. We laid in bed and talked for hours when we should have been sleeping.
Two years passed like this, a normal that felt secure and wonderful and forever.
But timing is everything.
Things in my family got complicated. For reasons I don't really want to get into, it became necessary for me to move 3000 miles away from the love of my life. And because his children are still young, he stayed behind.
But neither of us will give up.
I've never pictured myself growing old before, but now I see it. Growing old with him. Holding his hand on our front porch. Sitting by his side until the end.
I've never wanted to get married, but that's there too, the desire to commit to him for the rest of this life. And whatever is next.
We don't know how long we will be apart. There's not end date in sight for us right now. I will travel back as often as I can, and am lucky enough to be able to spend weeks at a time there, at least a few times a year. But how will that be enough? I'm not sure yet. It's been only two weeks since I left and I am missing his kisses like crazy.
But someday, the timing will be right. I know it in my heart as surely as I know that somewhere, right now, he is thinking of me.
I have been told many times in my life that timing is everything. That my long history of bad luck with the wrong kind of man would end right when it was supposed to, and that, as soon as I stopped looking for love I would find it.
I didn't believe a word of it.
But on a hot Fourth of July night, Fate stepped in. Fate. In the form of a 6'3" skinny Canadian.
The night I met BF I wasn't looking for love. I wasn't looking for anything, really, except a distraction from the hell going on in my life. Because that summer I was coming to terms with the fact that my father...my hero and one of my best friends...was dying of cancer.
And so, when BF and I started talking, I didn't think much of it. And on our first date, I didn't even try to hide to the pain that was dealing with, I didn't sugar-coat it. But when I told him what was happening, and he took my hand and looked at me with eyes that clearly ached for me and wanted to soothe the pain I felt, something deep inside me responded.
We fell in love quickly. The side-effect of jumping into a relationship in the middle of a hurricane. BF's life was no prettier than mine at the time. A hideous court case was breaking his heart and his wallet, and he needed me just as badly as I needed him.
But it was more than that. We were good together....SO good. He made me laugh, and he looked at me like I was the only person in the world. No one has ever appreciated my "crazy" more than he does. We spent the next few months alternating between the reality in our lives, and the heaven that was falling in love. Late night star-gazing, drive-in movies, long walks by the river. All of the late night phone calls and "firsts" that make the beginning of a relationship so amazing.
And I was there beside him in court when he needed to be. And he held me the night, four months after we met, when my dad passed away.
And together, we picked up the pieces.
We lived together 1/2 of the time, while the other 1/2 of the time he had his children (neither of us were ready for me to be a stepmom to children who had been through way too much already) . We moved on with our lives. We progressed from the first stages of a relationship, to the sweet familiarity that only comes with time. And still, our daily lives were loving and romantic. On more than one occasion, I came home from work to find my computer queued up to a love song with a note that said "press play." We danced in the kitchen as we made dinner. We laid in bed and talked for hours when we should have been sleeping.
Two years passed like this, a normal that felt secure and wonderful and forever.
But timing is everything.
Things in my family got complicated. For reasons I don't really want to get into, it became necessary for me to move 3000 miles away from the love of my life. And because his children are still young, he stayed behind.
But neither of us will give up.
I've never pictured myself growing old before, but now I see it. Growing old with him. Holding his hand on our front porch. Sitting by his side until the end.
I've never wanted to get married, but that's there too, the desire to commit to him for the rest of this life. And whatever is next.
We don't know how long we will be apart. There's not end date in sight for us right now. I will travel back as often as I can, and am lucky enough to be able to spend weeks at a time there, at least a few times a year. But how will that be enough? I'm not sure yet. It's been only two weeks since I left and I am missing his kisses like crazy.
But someday, the timing will be right. I know it in my heart as surely as I know that somewhere, right now, he is thinking of me.
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