Adult Love
381 days ago I followed a crazy idea, birthed out of unforunate circumstances, curiousity, and (well...) sheer insanity and moved to Lake Mary, Florida. I met a man on the internet. Now 9 years ago, that single sentence would envoke fear and trembling to the masses! I was introduced to him through friends, and we shared a lot of common interests. Countless hours, expensive cell phone bills, and 2 trips back and forth later, I made the decision to move there. While to eachother we may have sounded confident and sure of our committments and feelings for eachother, It's my belief that neither of us really thought it would work out. Or at a minimum didn't expect to be penetrated by the deep love that would come about. Both of us having been in relationships that lead to or were going to lead to marriage in the past, our hearts were bruised and broken. I cared for Doug to the extent that my heart would allow. I made it clear from the begining that I had no intention on ever having children or remarrying. At the time I thought I loved Doug. He was my best friend. Throughout the last 12 months we have grown and digressed. We have loved and hurt eachother. I've bottled up things that should be spoken, and said things that should be bottled up. We've both almost given up and we've both been so glad we didn't. We've fought about money, sex, food, health, cats, video games, and every other retardedly small thing in this universe. But we've loved too. We've loved greatly. When I was frail and weak, angry and crazy, quiet and sorrowful, giddy and happy, - he held me. When I've screamed, "I hate you!" he's held me and said "but I love you".
I've always imagined I'd meet the one, and it would be fairy tale material. We'd see eachother the first time and drop what we are doing to run into eachothers soulful embrace. I've imagined a courtship full of flowers and soulful conversations, holding hands and holding hearts. But what I've just realized is that what I was imagining was someone elses story. Maybe that fairy tale happened to someone else, but it doesn't mean it's my story. Love doesn't always look one way, it doesn't always fit into the little box society has told me to look for. It's mind blowing that I would be looking for a great love, but expect it to look like anything duplicated.
My love story - the love I was waiting for came in a whole different way. See, Doug and I did things a little differently. We moved into together, and then fell in love. I couldn't want the things that follows love ( marriage/children) because my heart couldn't fathom opening up to someone that big. We decided to be together without knowing why. I'm sure the moment I fell in love with him was some idle Tuesday morning, doing nothing special at all. There were no flowery fields, or uncomfortable first exchanges when I opened my heart to him. It was over a period of several months where two bruised and broken hearts learned to grow and learn and trust one another. And really, when you compare that kind of science to flowers and chocolates, the segregation is mind blowing.
I've always imagined I'd meet the one, and it would be fairy tale material. We'd see eachother the first time and drop what we are doing to run into eachothers soulful embrace. I've imagined a courtship full of flowers and soulful conversations, holding hands and holding hearts. But what I've just realized is that what I was imagining was someone elses story. Maybe that fairy tale happened to someone else, but it doesn't mean it's my story. Love doesn't always look one way, it doesn't always fit into the little box society has told me to look for. It's mind blowing that I would be looking for a great love, but expect it to look like anything duplicated.
My love story - the love I was waiting for came in a whole different way. See, Doug and I did things a little differently. We moved into together, and then fell in love. I couldn't want the things that follows love ( marriage/children) because my heart couldn't fathom opening up to someone that big. We decided to be together without knowing why. I'm sure the moment I fell in love with him was some idle Tuesday morning, doing nothing special at all. There were no flowery fields, or uncomfortable first exchanges when I opened my heart to him. It was over a period of several months where two bruised and broken hearts learned to grow and learn and trust one another. And really, when you compare that kind of science to flowers and chocolates, the segregation is mind blowing.