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:officially official: |
I believe my attitude on this subject had something to do with fear. What if you never found that one individual meant for you, or you found them, and then lost them to forces outside of your control? Were you destined then to spend the rest of your life alone? Furthermore, there were also the severe emotional scars from my first marriage. My first husband and I were comrades, we knew how to get along with each other on a day to day basis, how to be fantastic parents together, how to make life work with the least amount of waves - and yet, as good as this all sounds on paper, we never really clicked. So many times I would lie awake at night, looking at the profile of a man I knew so well, and then not all. Our fights, no matter the origin, would always end with me dissolving into sobs, pleading for more emotion, more romance, more connection, while he emotionally retreated faster than the Southern boys after Gettysburg, telling me what I was demanding was the stuff of fairy tales. When I left, I had the strongest conviction in my heart that I would never remarry. See other men? Yes. Maybe someday care deeply for someone else? Sure. Trust another person with my love and sanity and last name? Nope. I never wanted to belong to someone else that way again.
I didn't mean to fall in love with Michael, in fact, at the time, I was doing everything I could to have a completely superficial relationship to get me through the trauma of a divorce. As my coworker and best friend, he was the worst possible candidate for this type of fling. I'd met him when he started working at the same gym as me, and over lunches between clients and long hours at the gym, we'd developed a close friendship. We found early on we were both struggling in our relationships, and that shared bond brought us closer. He was younger than me by a few years, but wise beyond them. He'd packed quite a lot of life experience into his time that most people never experience, and I found a steady shoulder to lean on and sound, meaningful advice in him. He was loyal and kind and smart and funny, and even back then, larger than life to me, but I never once looked at him as anything other than my beloved friend.
And yet, in the way these things do, a normal conversation turned into much more and suddenly, I was in his arms enjoying the best first kiss I'd ever received. I only remember being completely dazed when he pulled away, both of us breathing hard and looking quite unsure how we had become entwined on the floor. I left then, needing some time to think, and promising to meet him later. As I drove around replaying that kiss in my head, true to form, I made a mental pros and cons list why this was a perfect/horrible idea. The only concrete fact I had come to as I drove to meet him that night, however, was that I had to make sure that kiss hadn't been a fluke. And so, in a stroke of brilliance or complete insanity, I told him the truth: I was still married, albeit already out the door, so I couldn't offer anything of permanence. Further, I had no intention of getting serious again, especially this soon, and so this would most likely be a passing affair, destined to end horribly. I finished and waited for my level headed friend to say no.
What I didn't know at the time is that my level headed friend had a streak of impetuosity that was about to seal both of our fates. As he put it to me later, "When I find something I want or love, I put everything I have into it. Also, I jump headfirst into dangerous, potentially terribly ending situations." Completely disregarding everything I had just told him, he asked only one thing: that one night would be just ours, no past relationships, no future pressure, just two people feeling their way through the moment. And feel we did. We stayed awake all night until the dawn, loving and talking and wondering together. I felt like Cinderella, caught up in a night of magic and watching the second hand tick closer to midnight (or in this case, three or so in the morning). As his car drove away I wept harder than I ever had in my life, pulling my own car to the side of the road as the wracking sobs consumed me. I knew it was over before it had ever began, the timing just too wrong, the roadblocks between us insurmountable.
After a few fitful hours of sleep, I woke up to begin my day, melancholy as I fixed my kids breakfast. The day became slowly more unbearable; I could still smell his sweet breath, feel his hands tracing down my back, hear his voice whispering in my ear. Finally, I couldn't take one more moment and, throwing all caution and good sense to the wind, drove as fast as my car would take me to the gym where he was working. As I turned to walk into the office my bravery fled, and I realized I was probably about to have my heart smashed - we had agreed there would be no more to this. Then I turned the corner and saw his face. I knew then what his answer would be when I asked, but I did anyway, practically begging him could we please, please just ride this out a little longer and see where it went?
Where it went, darling, nine short months later, was down an aisle. A rather beautiful outside one surrounded by mountains and trees and a lake. You see, shortly after that conversation I changed my opinion of soul mates. While I still hold that there are probably many people a person can make a go of life with, and probably be quite happy with for the most part, some of us are lucky enough to meet the one person made just for us. Yes, you read it right, made for us. A perfect equal. A love so deep that it surpasses emotion and words and is instead inferred directly onto our soul, completely tangible at an intangible level. And when you become one of the fortunate few who find that kind of love, it just doesn't do to shy away from it. Timing and obstacles be damned, you hold onto it and trust that it will see you through. Because it will, dear one, it will.
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:the crow catches his butterfly: |
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