Part 3

Once I had decided to give G a try, we had months to go.  We agreed to date in May, but he wouldn't be home until July.  So we spent upwards of 8 hours a day on the phone.  I was working 2 jobs, and so when we had time to talk we did.  (I was up in my college town during the summer, when most of my friends were gone, so I didn't have an overly full schedule).  And the talking was great.  It allowed us to get excited to finally see each other after 7 months since our last dinner.  

Then the 2 worst hands of my life decided they wanted to be dealt back in.  And as much as I love G now, it was different then, I was conflicted.  I knew I couldn't back out on G, but I wasn't sure how to completely cut off the others.  In the end one helped make the decision.  He told me he had always thought the other guy was horrible, and if he couldn't have me (he couldn't) then his vote was for Garret, who seemed like the only decent guy in my life.  So I made the choice to give G a full and fair shot.  

That summer we wrote letters.  Some of them (particularly from me) very long.  One I believe was 16 pages.  Yes, we're both into letter writing, but that particular one had a lot to say.  Mainly that I was never able to see him for the fantastic guy he was before because he loved me so much it scared me.  I didn't really love myself, so someone seeing me, the real me, and still loving me that much was terrifying and I pushed him away.  But it was our time finally.  So I did the cutesy things like send cookies.  I called him after tests to see how he did.  I loved waking up to a call from him.  Hell, I could even take hearing the other guys rib him about how he was going to go home and get laid, something we still hadn't even discussed at the time.  

Then it was time for graduation and his mom and sister drove down for it.  The anxious waiting part started.  Overnight on the drive home they stayed in a hotel and he and I were chatting, and he decided that there would be no stopping except to eat and use the restroom the next day because he was coming home to me.  They managed to get home early, but I was working that night so I was bummed until my supervisor let me go home early.  I jumped in the car, ran home to change and pack a bag and grab my dog, and off I drove the 2 hours home.  Our first date wasn't scheduled until that weekend, but that night was the night I really knew.  That all those months of talking to him thinking he was it were right.  

And what was so magical?  Well, we had our first kiss outside of the laundromat (my down comforter needed to be washed so we went there and played cards).  Afterwards we went to the new Wal-Mart Supercenter in town (exciting I know).  We were going to drive out to the countryside and hang out under the stars, and I decided that what we needed was ice cream to eat.  So we were walking down an aisle and I grabbed his hand and we took off running, so full of energy from the thrill of finally being together.  We grabbed mint chocolate chip and some plastic spoons, and we drove off into the night.  That night we talked and laughed.  We laid on a blanket on a gravel road out by his Uncle's place under the stars.  Garret is into astronomy so he could point out the different stars.  And as we laid there he looked down at me and said simply "You're beautiful."  Lots of kissing ensued, I must admit.  

New love is always exciting.  You always have those butterflies, those glances at one another.  The constant urges to just connect physically, a held hand, a leg touching.  But this, this was different.  This was re-discovering each other in a different way.  This was seeing a person in a completely different light than I had for over 4 years.  

Our first official date was just dinner at the Olive Garden.  Simple food, and only the host and the waiter flirted with me.  I think G was becoming a bit annoyed since I was the one asked anything, and he was kind of ignored.  Funny, normally I would have been flattered but I just found it amusing.  After dinner we went back home, loaded up my car and drove the 2 hours up to my apartment for a week together.  Time for just the two of us.  

I won't go into too many details of that week.  It was very personal, and mainly we holed ourselves up in the place and just existed together.  We did do some shopping, and a movie, and dinner out.  We even made time to meet up with my best friend for coffee.  But mainly we did a lot of lying around, reading poetry aloud to each other.  Crying sometimes, holding each other.  Sometimes I laugh because it sounds like something out of a movie, and it was.  We re-learned about one another and ourselves.  He told me he wanted to go to the store with me when I had forgotten something because he "just liked being seen with" me.  And I tried (only half kidding) to just get him to elope with me at the courthouse.  But he told me he couldn't do that, he knew what a real wedding meant to me, and he planned on giving it to me.  There was dancing in the middle of the night in a candlelit living room.  There were long talks about the future.  But mostly there was just being together.  

Then it was home to reality.  It was home to me feeling bad that he preferred me to seeing his family, home to making sure he spent plenty of time with them.  Home to sneaking kisses out of sight of everyone.  At one point we made plans to go camping and refused to cancel them even when there were thunderstorm warnings.  And we stayed bravely, sweating to death from the humidity, with me scared to death when it turned out to be the worst storm I've ever experienced. 

And we fought, because that's what new lovers do.  They quarrel.  They fight to be heard, to be seen.  One night he stayed at my parents house with me overnight.  My parents have a strict no sex in their house unless you are married rule, which I always saw as a respect issue.  So all night we just whispered promises of the future and fell asleep on the floor together, curled up.  Then it was time for him to get ready to head off to England.  We were both scared, wondering if things would change.  We had talked about me coming over for Christmas (which I did).  We had planned to get engaged then.  But G was a bit overeager. 

I've already told the tale of our engagement.  How he dropped to one knee at twilight under the stars.  About how I told him "thank you for loving me." About how he responded with "thank you for finally seeing me."  Did I mention there was dancing to no music?  There was also, above all else, hope.  And that night God sighed, content that we had both finally seen what we should have all along.

It does seem like such a fairytale or a script from a film when looking back now.  And it isn't like that for everyone.  But it is still like that for us.  We still dance in the kitchen to old songs by Dinah Washington.  We still love lying out under the stars, only now it's by a fire with a glass of wine.  We still have people who tell us they want what they have.  But remember, this all happened slowly.  It was never a whirlwind romance, because although things moved quickly once we fell in love, it took years slowly building up the best hand.  The trust, the communication, the ability to say I'm sorry and I forgive you.  What we have is a friendship on fire.  A deep burning love, but the embers are respect and faith.  Faith that we were meant for one another long before my favorite star Vega appeared in the sky.  A faith that caused us to tweak the traditional wedding vows to say not "til death do us part" but instead "into eternity."

G, I love you.  Completely and Forever.