NOLA 2014

NOLA 2014

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Love Unexpected

I wrote this several years ago, but while cleaning out my Google Drive, uncovered this piece and thought I'd share it.

 Love Unexpected

 I was 32 years old. I thought I knew what love was. I had two children, two failed relationships, but surely I knew love. I suffered from my first broken heart during my senior year of high school, crushed and alone, but I recovered. It was nearly ten years later when I fell in love again, only the stars were not aligned. The circumstances surrounding us and our love were beyond less than ideal, they were controversial and many would say down-right appalling. I don't know if that heightened the romanticism for me or not, but it was a love I'd never experienced. It was risky and exciting, flirty and sensual, loving yet forbidden. He was 22 years my senior, my married neighbor, and childhood best-friend's father. Our relationship began in secrecy, stealing a cup of coffee together on the porch, bringing over a sample of dessert, a wave or a nod pulling out of the driveway. This progressed to arranged meetings at the lake, lunch dates, and overnight camping trips. He ended up leaving his wife and moving in with me. We were engaged to be married, in spite of the lack of approval. We had a daughter together, a perfect little girl. I was the happiest I'd ever been.

 March 19, 2008, he left me. I came home from work and his things were packed and his face was grim. He sat me down and explained that he loved me, but what we were doing just wasn’t right. Heart break senior year had nothing on the hurt and loneliness I felt. I couldn't eat, sleep, work, breathe. I was shaken to the core and devastated. Everyone told me time was what I needed and things would get easier with time. So I waited, and wallowed, and tried to go on. The following year I got a job offer 1500 miles away and jumped at it. Some might say I was running, but I saw an opportunity for a fresh start, in a new place, with no memories of the love I thought I lost. I had no family where I was going, so raising my girls alone was exhausting and my work was demanding, but it kept my mind occupied. Work and my girls became my sole focus. Being a single mother was not what I had envisioned for myself, but it was my reality. I felt like I was finally establishing my own identity. I felt free and empowered. I was doing what I loved (teaching middle-schoolers), in a cool new city (San Antonio), and trying to give my girls great experiences and show them how strong a girl could be. I didn’t need anyone. I had my girls and my career, convincing myself everyday to be satisfied with that. I was successful most days.

 March 19, 2010, I had a date with a stranger. Ironic, I know, realizing this is exactly two years after my world came crashing down (A fact I realized at the end of my date, making it even more spectacular). My mom was visiting and gladly volunteered to watch the girls. Nervous, anxious, giddy, hopeful. Trying to maintain no expectations, I drove an hour north to meet the stranger. Let me preface this by saying, though we had never met, we had exchanged facebook communicato, instant messages, emails, and even real old-fashioned conversations via telephone for several weeks. I pulled into the parking lot of a Tex-Mex restaurant at the exact time he also pulled in. As he approached me, my stomach churned with anticipation. We ate, told real stories (not the cheesy, getting-to-know-you-but-not-really-revealing-anything stories), meaningful stories of the experiences that made us who we were sitting there together at that table. The date moved on to a local music festival full of good tunes and people-watching, but all I saw was the stranger who no longer felt like a stranger. I leaned in and stole a kiss just before it was time to leave. It was the best date I've ever had. So many feelings were rushing through my body, excitement, anticipation, and I guess, relief. Before this date, I promised myself that I would be okay. I didn't need a partner. I had my daughters and could love them enough to negate the need to share my life with anyone else. I convinced myself of this. But now, I'm left to wonder if maybe I could have it all. This time, perhaps, the stars were aligned.

 The next couple months, we spent every weekend together. He lived 8 hours from me and made the trip every weekend. As the school year came to an end, my belongings were boxed up and began gradually making the return trip with him every weekend. It didn't matter that we hadn't known each other for very long, or that I hadn't even seen the home where I was moving my family, that I had no job lined up, that I was a city girl and the town I was moving to only had a post office, it was happening. This was LOVE! Me, the girl who swore it off, found it, as everyone always says, when I wasn't looking.

We were married that July. It wasn't entirely easy. My adjustment to "BFE" was difficult and is still progressing and digressing, depending on the day. His passage from bachelorhood to husband and father of two is a continuous learning process as well. Oddly enough, all of the changes have felt so natural. I love this man more than I ever thought I could love someone (that didn't come directly from my body). Loving someone selflessly and completely and honestly is the most amazing feeling. I love the way his arms feel around me. I love that I can tell him anything. I love that he cries when I'm upset. I love the way he flares his nostrils before he says something he deems witty. I love how he strives for perfection in raising the girls. Love doesn't seem like a powerful enough word to evoke how I really feel. The word "Love" is thrown around casually and doesn't come close to my adoration for my husband. I know I'm not the only person to feel this way, but I also know how rare it is. I found it and am not letting go. I think that the hurt I felt back in 2008 forced me to find myself, discover who I was, what I wanted, and really made me grow up...which led me to finding love.

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