It’s funny how blind we can be to what is right for us if we are inexperienced with love, jaded, or held back by the amount that we can believe in something. I remember my truest love, and he was perfect for me. But we were both going through a period of economic and emotional struggle.
I cried for months after I let him go.
I don’t mean a few glistening tears, I mean ugly body-wracking sobs.
He tried desperately to get me to listen to him, to be with him again.
And I used to sit and listen to the phone ring, knowing it was him on the other end of it, and sob uncontrollably. Even then, I knew we were supposed to be together, but didn’t know how. I’ll tell you more of the details another day, but for now suffice it to say that the distance I created between us was for the purpose of being able to cleanly come back again together later.
Only at the time, I thought later would be a couple of months, maybe a year. Never could I imagine that it would be years before we would talk again. The turning point came when a package arrived to the house, with an old cell phone in it, one of the few belongings that survived my trip to Vegas and back.
I tried to turn it on, wondering if it was dead, hoping it had an old friend’s number in it.
His was at the top of the list. So now I had a dilemma. Do I call him? Do I send him my number? (His email addy was in there too.)
I decided to send him an email with my number in it and wait until he called. And if he didn’t call within 24 hours, then I would do the scariest thing ever. I would call him. Not to get him back, at least not yet. To apologize.
Looking back, I thought about all the times that I had been wronged in a relationship, and I don’t mean that it was always one-sided. But sometimes you break up, and you KNOW you did the other person Dirty, or that the end of the affair was your doing. So there have to be times when other people feel the same way.
And for my part, knowing what a mistake I made, I thought it would make his life better if I called, apologized, and told him it wasn’t his fault. THAT is how much I loved him. How much I Still loved him.
Turns out he hadn’t checked his email. I called him up and what happened during that phone call changed my life.
At first he didn’t know who I was, I could tell. So I sat around and had some business small talk with him, and slipped in a few suggestive flirts until finally he had to ask me to say my name again. I have a unique name so I’m used to this. He was very upfront about it though, and was like, wait, this isn’t who I think this is, I thought you said *this name*.
My name does sound like a lot of different names when you say it too fast.
And when i did, he went off into a whole other space, and this wistful hoarseness came over his voice.
“I was sooo into you. I was SO in love with you.”
Shit. Did he just say was?
It was that exact moment that I realized that I was still in love with him and in all likelihood would never stop loving him.
And I knew I was in serious trouble because now I was knee deep in the conversation. He’d want to know what I’d been up to. Why I was calling.
So I told him, when he asked. And I apologized to him. And found out that I really, truly, deeply hurt him. I didn’t ask him to come back to me. But when he asked me if I was really in love with him back then, I told him that not only did I love him then…
Not only was the powerful, near-hypnotic state we were perpetually in together real….
I still Love him.
I am still IN Love with him.
Of course, all the “Danger, Will Robinson” lights flashed around my head. I wished that I could have stuffed the words back in my mouth. But they were out there. And at some point he asked me how I felt about the conversation.
Really nervous.
He wanted to know why.
Because I didn’t think about what happens after this conversation.
The details of how it went down are too intimate to reveal here, but suffice it to say, he is still in Love with me, too, and told me so. Not only that, but he only made me sweat it out for a few minutes before he told me.
We were back together, just like that. Peas and carrots again, as Forest Gump would say.
So, remember how I said that even though I still feel too fat for dating, but that, paradoxically, I somehow knew that I was getting married this year?
Well.
Yeah.
I imagine I’ll be married by the end of the summer if things go as planned. The date is not official but we’re close.
My Truest Love is now my fiancée (did I just type that???) and I will probably have a small wedding out here in Maryland before I go off to join him. Between that and work, my time to write has been limited, but since I’ll be out visiting him starting on Sunday, that will soon change.
I feel so lucky to have found him again.
We lost touch for a long time – when I broke up with him, I disappeared. By the time I figured out that he was the one for me, any way that I could reconnect with him was lost to me, at the time I thought, forever.
And for some lucky, beautiful reason, God is seeing fit to allow me to have one more chance with him. I’ll never leave my Truest Love, not ever, again.
