Once Upon a Saturday

It started off kind of like any weekend could. We had plans to go downtown, catch a movie on the big IMAX screen at the Science Center and then dinner reservations at an Italian restaurant we had heard was good. LC got up late and suggested we head out early. The weather was nice, sun was out, and we could walk around downtown a bit and enjoy it. We both got ready and drove out to get some lunch. After lunch we walked around a bit, looked at the water, and hit our first snag.

The movie wasn’t showing at the time I had seen advertised earlier in the week. Now what? No problem LC assured me, we’d just bum around the city and take it easy. So we walked around for bit. After a while LC was thirsty and I needed a bathroom so we headed into a drug store and asked if they had a restroom. When I came out, LC was sitting near the door. I told him I was ready to go now, but he said he needed to make a stop too. Unfortunately the restroom was inconveniently located behind a door that had to be unlocked by an employee. It was about to shut so I went to run for it. That’s when it happened. I felt this awful *pop* inside my left leg and froze in my tracks. Luckily someone else came out from behind the door and LC got to use the restroom. When he came out he asked if I was okay and I insisted I was. Just needed to walk it off! No problem! A few steps later, I was almost in tears and LC was convinced I needed to go home.

No! I don’t need to go home! I just need to walk it off! I’ll be fine! LC wasn’t buying it. I limped around the drug store to grab some mascara and something to rub on my oddly injured leg. We paid for that, plus the soda, and headed off. LC was still skeptical, but I was insistent. So out we went. When I stepped off the curb to cross the street, I shrieked. LC looked more skeptical. I managed to hobble across the street before he made me sit down. He ended up going back across the street to get some aspirin while I sat still. When he got back I took the pills, drank a little soda, and insisted we try to walk around again. LC tried to convince me he would pull the car over and pick me up but I totally panicked. No! I want to walk to the car! I’m going to be okay! So fine, I limped up to the car, by which point I was sore and worn out. I was frantic not to go home though so he finally calmed me by agreeing we could drive around for a bit. It was a compromise I accepted.

We ended up driving to a nearby urgent care center. I could barely walk and he knew I’d refuse the emergency room. I tried to resist but he wasn’t having any more of it. In we went. I filled out all the little intake papers like a good girl and we finally got into a room. The nice nurse turned on the television for us and we waited some more. LC turned to me and said, “Pretty funny day, huh?” I glared at him. “I don’t think so.” We waited some more. Then the lights in the facility went out. Seriously. As we sat there in the quiet and the dark I turned to him and couldn’t help but laugh. “Now it’s funny.” I told him.

Eventually the lights came back on. The doctors wrapped my leg and sent me out on crutches. And we had no idea where to go from there. LC drove us back into the city while I continued to insist that sitting still would only make it worse. He drove to a nice neighborhood by the water and parked the car. I tried to figure out whether I had to walk with the crutches, or maybe just one crutch, or maybe none. He told me we didn’t have to do this. I threw both crutches in the back of the truck and decided to limp.

We limped across the street and out to the end of a wharf. Finally we sat down on a bench. We talked for a bit. We watched the water for a bit. And eventually LC turned to me and said he had a question to ask me. And right there he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.

Of course I said yes! And he slipped the most gorgeous ring onto my finger. And that, my dear friends, is how I got engaged.

Afterwards I couldn’t limp much further. He ended up pulling the car around to get me and take me to our dinner reservations for the evening. We had a nice dinner and then came home and put some ice on my leg. And on Monday I’ll call a specialist because I’m still limping.

But once upon a Saturday, just yesterday in fact, LC proposed to me. And I said yes. And now all we need to do is live happily ever after. I can’t wait.

Last Sunday…

Actual conversation with LC last Sunday…

Me: You know, I really have no idea what kind of ring I want, so I know you couldn’t possibly. I think we should go shopping together, figure it out, and then whenever you are ready you’ll know what you’re shopping for.

Him: Okay. Let’s do it next weekend.

Me: *blink* Okay.

Goodbye 2009

New Years Eve is a party holiday for, well, everyone. But for me…. okay it’s *that*, but it’s also a time of reflection. It’s the one moment when an entire year is behind you and you can see exactly where you’ve been. You have that one moment to reflect on what was and make decisions about how to change it, or not. You can take a finite measurement of time and really look at who you were and what happened. I know I’m a little crazy, but that’s pretty cool to me. So every year on this day, I find myself taking stock of what was. And tomorrow, I will take stock of what could be.

So there’s a lot about this year that I’m not proud of. There is, most notably, Big. And the fact that he nearly wrecked everything for me. There was the unforgettable moment he moved into his own apartment….. only to move back the next day. And then dump me when I put my foot down. Yeah… I’ve gotten pretty used to glossing over all of that but there it is. There is also my return to the land of common sense when I went back to LC and asked him to forgive me. He said yes, but we had a rough time of it there for a while. While it may not have been his intention to punish me, he was angry and, well, he did. And we both know that. But by the grace of 2009, we somehow rode it out together.  And now we’re here. We moved into our new apartment 10 days ago. We’re nearly unpacked. We go to bed every night together. In the last six months, our life has turned around 180 degrees.

At the beginning of last year, I was full of hope for us. I talked about giving us a real chance. I was ready. And now, at the end of the year, I am surprised to find that I actually achieved that goal. Believe me, no one is more surprised than me but facts are facts. And we may have taken the scenic route to getting here, but get here we did. And hey, at least I know now that the car we rode in can take it.

My hope for next year is to take more of a freeway to my goals, rather than the twisty windy scenic route. But all in all, this year wasn’t quite so bad after all.

Planning Ahead

This is a snippet from an actual conversation LC and I had while debating moving in together last month. We were talking about how moving in isn’t just something that we will do lightly anymore and had established (for the 40th time) that it is something we would both do with the understanding that we intend for it to be permanent. Not just a right now kind of thing, but more of an until death do us part kind of thing. Without the ceremony. Or the big question. Yet.

Then out of the sort of blue, this happened:

Me: You know, I’ll want a big ring.

Him: That might take me a while.

Me: That’s okay. I can wait.

Him: Okay.

And then we carried on talking about other things. I really do love that man.

Stranger than fiction

It all started with an email. An email from Big. Two days ago he wrote to say he hoped a milestone in my life went well for me. Of course, true to form, he was over a week late which he knew. Why he chose to write one week and one day later is beyond me. It will always be beyond me. But he did. He sent an email.

Things went downhill from there. Despite all rational logic to the contrary, I wrote back.  I just wanted him to know how well I’m doing. That he didn’t break me. That I found something better than we’d ever had. I know it’s petty, but there it is. The best revenge is living well, and I wanted him to know I had that.

So I told him about LC and I moving in together. That I was moving out of my beloved single girl pad. He knows this is something I never would have done for him. I wanted him to understand how good things are. How well it’s working out. Maybe I even wanted him to hurt just a little since it seemed he never did. Whatever, so I told him. And of, course, he wrote back again.

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Madness

And so the moving madness has begun. Now, you all don’t really know me so let me paint you a picture. Perhaps it will explain why suddenly LC is frightened of me when it comes to this move.

We applied at the apartment complex this past Thursday. So for those of you keeping track at home, that means less than a week ago. LC feels that as we have over a month until the move we have a few weeks to relax. But no, I am in moving overdrive.

As soon as we got into the car to leave the new apartment complex, I asked him if he wants to share my movers. He blinked at me confused. He wanted time to think about it. I blinked back at him. Because, you know, the movers need to be booked immediately because they can book up! And I need my movers. I assured him they’re great. Hard working and they have never broken or damaged my stuff. He was torn between finding me efficient and slightly crazed. And besides, moving to him meant a U-Haul truck and a few of his closest friends. I tapped my foot impatiently. He begged for time to think.

By Sunday, he had agreed that sharing the movers was wise. After all, friendship is only good for so much. I explained for me movers are a necessity. There is no one in this world who loves me enough to cart my giant sofa down from my third floor walk up apartment without getting paid in more than pizza and beer. He said he’d share the movers with me. By Monday afternoon they were booked and we had a confirmation letter.

I am ready to call the utilities. I am searching for boxes. I am pondering how to break the news to my cleaning ladies. (Let them see the boxes piling up, or warn them that our relationship has almost run its course? What if they clean less effiiciently because they know I’m leaving them? And how will I work the move out cleaning?) I have a plan for turning in my keys early to my rental office since we’ll be on Christmas vacation when the lease is up. I have lists of what goes into storage and what doesn’t. And I’m one step away from buying stickers so I can color code things for the movers. Oh yes, it’s like this.

LC didn’t see all that coming. He wanted someone to share responsibilities, but he never anticipated the crazy train he was hopping on until this is all over. This is why I had to know he really loved me first. Because otherwise he’d probably run for his life.

Poor LC. He hasn’t even considered how insane the unpacking situation might be. I tried to warn him, but he never saw this coming. Now who has spare boxes to give me?

Parking Lot Confessions

Him: So what do you think about moving in?

Me: (hedging) What do you think?

Him: I’d really like to do it. I miss you when you’re not around.

Me: (hedging some more)

Him: Just say it. Whatever it is.

Me: Moving in is kind of a permanent decision for me.

Him: For me too. I can’t imagine a life without you.

Me: (gooey eyes)

One Year Ago

One year ago last week, I decided to accept a date with a guy I wasn’t sure of. Our communications had been stop and start, but they had started again and he seemed nice enough. I hedged accepting the date since he was rather short. But I wasn’t making any effort to set up dates myself anymore and I decided maybe I was being superficial anyway. So I said yes.

One year ago last weekend, I was examining his online photos. I couldn’t tell exactly what he looked like as they weren’t necessarily the best things in the world. He might have been cute or he might have been funny looking. I was hoping for cute. I was bracing for funny looking.

One year ago last weekend, I almost canceled our date and decided never to go out with him. He told me about his divorce and it hadn’t been as far away as I might have liked. I was afraid of rebounds or lingering attachments. My own healing process was still fresh in my mind. I almost called things off, but then I didn’t. What harm could one date do anyway, right?

One year ago today, I met him for brunch. We were the same height. And he was totally cute and not funny looking. I wore a top I would later learn was flashing him a bit too much cleavage when I leaned forward. He didn’t stare.

One year ago today, we were having such a good conversation over brunch that we moved downstairs to the bar area and kept talking. That date lasted about six hours. For the most part, I forgot he was short. And I wondered why I’d let our initial conversations be so stop and start.

One year ago today, I was too cautious to imagine what might come of a six hour date with a cute guy who was my height. I did like that he picked up the tab and walked me to my car. I liked the hug he gave me as we said goodbye. I liked that he followed up with me immediately to ask me out again. But I was too careful to imagine what might happen next.

One year ago today, I met LC. I remember every detail of that date. I remember what we wore, what we ate, and what we drank. I remember how good the conversation was. I remember thinking maybe the height thing wasn’t so big a deal… maybe.I remember thinking he seemed pretty well adjusted about his divorce after all.  I remember looking for what would be wrong this time that would make it not work.

What I don’t remember is ever imagining that one year later we’d still be together. That height really wouldn’t be a big deal. That I would eventually be filled with hope. That we would be strong enough to overcome so many obstacles together. And yet, here we are.

What happened last week was a miscommunication. I still find hoping and believing to be difficult, and sometimes I react first and ask questions later. LC and I have done a lot of soul searching together in the past week or so. But I think it all boils down to something he said to me in the dark this last Thursday night, just before we fell asleep. Just like that, he told me his life is better because I’m in it.

One year ago today I could never have imagined how much I would love him or how much I would want to remain in his life. But today, I know. And I do. And I will. One year ago today we started something great. Here’s hoping there will be many more years of looking back at it all fondly and looking forward to what may come.

Fall

Traditionally fall is a season of change for me. Leaves fall, school years begin, and major life changes take place. In fall I have started new jobs, gotten divorced, met people who will change my life, and sold my house. It’s something about the season that just equals life changes for me like no other. It’s my season, even though in later years it has often been a painful one. I love the cooler temperatures and the trees changing colors. I just love the smell of it. Even though fall has hurt me so often, it is somehow fundamental to who I am.

This fall I can feel things shifting. Things inside me are moving and changing under my skin. I don’t know yet if it’s for the best, but it’s happening.

Last fall I met LC. In fact, in 6 days it will be exactly one year since we met. This fall I am supposed to be giving notice at my apartment. The place that has been all mine, my very first living space that ever was just for me… I’m supposed to promise to leave it this fall. That is the plan. LC and I have looked at apartments, talked about what goes into storage and what stays, and decided which bed we’re going to sleep in. We have a plan.

Last night I asked LC why he wanted to move in with me. He said “Because I like spending time with you.” It was dark and he couldn’t see my face. There was silence. LC broke the silence to ask why I wanted to move in with him. I told him “Because I love you and I want to start building a life with you.” And then I wondered if he could see the difference too. Because now it’s something I can’t forget.

Some year I’ll probably start to hate the fall. I wonder if this year will be it.

Even in Imperfection

These days I’m in new territory. Uncharted waters, you might say.For the first time since… well, since I was in college quite frankly… I am not trying to run from something.

LC and I have been hitting our first real bump in the road lately. I know I know, we had all those breakups and stuff. But that was before, and this is now. That was a life we don’t even remember all that much anymore. We’re in such a different place. And in our new and different place, we finally lost our harmony for a little bit.

I’m not going to hash over what’s been going on. It’s really irrelevant. Just trust me when I say that it has been (and probably will be for a bit longer) the first test of what we are and what we hope to become together. After almost a year (!!!) of dating, it’s probably kind of overdue, to be honest.

So here we are, and we’re both struggling a bit. And things started to churn around in my head. Things about how I’ve handled the tough stuff in the past. Hell, even in my last marriage. Things about what my new steps should be. And then it happened. I was floating off in my own head churning in some deep internal waters, and LC made me pay attention again.

He said, “I love you and I want to work this out together.” And I knew.

I knew that for once, I didn’t want to run. I knew that this time, I wanted to work it out together too. For once in my one date wonder of a life, I wasn’t threatening to leave or wondering what I should move on to. I wasn’t picturing how my life could be without him. For once, I wanted to work things out too.

I realized a life without LC would be… well, something I don’t want to think about. And even if I could fabricate all the “right reasons” in the world for picking up and leaving (which I can’t, by the way), if I did that I would simply miss him too much. My days would drag by without his emails. My nights would stretch on without his company. I’d lose my head every time there was a wine dinner or a cool event that we could no longer go to together. He would leave a giant LC-shaped hole in my life and it simply wouldn’t be okay.

And when I knew that, when I really knew? It was okay. Sure, it doesn’t make all the rough magically disappear. But the rough, it’s okay. It happens. And working through it together sounds downright fun compared to losing what I have found.

So yeah, maybe everything isn’t absolutely coming up roses right now. But it will be again soon. And even though everything isn’t totally perfect right now, I know I’m right where I belong. And I’m able to be happy even in our imperfection.