Fleeting Glimpses

Finally, same place, same time.

When Jay and I started dating, we realized that we had been in the same place at the same time quite frequently throughout our adult lives.

Northern Colorado isn't that big, I get it.  But still...we're talking pretty much all of our adult lives, we've been just missing each other.

For instance, Reba hasn't played in this area often.  In the early 90's, she played Big Mac in Denver (which doesn't even exist any more).  We were both there.

Stinktown Stampede concerts, both there.

CFD concerts, both there.

Recently - as in two days ago - we were talking and realized that he and his friend participated in a Poker Run that I worked for a couple of years.  Since I was working one of the stops, I clearly had to have interacted with him and his friend.

Okay, okay, those aren't such crazy coincidences. We lived in the same area, of course it was going to happen. That's not so outstanding.

However, there is Italy.

Yes, Italy.

We were both there the same year, the same two weeks.  And get this...essentially the same route, just backward.  My friends and I started in Rome and ended in Venice.  Jay and his family started in Venice and ended in Rome.

Got goosebumps yet?

I wonder how it is we've shared essentially the same space in time for most of our adult lives, but didn't meet?  Took a temper tantrum five years ago for us to finally meet.

Two Year Meetiversary

I pulled into the parking lot of Barnes and Noble a ten minutes before we'd agreed to meet.

And stayed in the car, staring at the entrance.

What if he doesn't show up?  He's the one who suggested this place.  But what if what's going on with Monster was enough to scare him off?  I should just go home.  I'm a mess, I have no business here.

I stared at the front entrance some more.  Then stared at the clock in my dashboard.  Then stared at the entrance.  I may have thrown up a little bit too.  My hand reached for the door and then dropped back into my lap.

What are you thinking?  Get moving!  I can't.  What if he's an asshole?  What if he's a really great guy, but he hates me?  Get moving!  Am I insane?  Damn, should have worked harder on losing some weight.

I stared at the front entrance some more, watching people go in and out.  There was no one pacing on the sidewalk, looking as nervous as I felt.

What if he stands me up?

I watched some more people go in and out of the entrance.  My hand crept toward the door again.  I actually managed to touch the door handle before my hand fell into my lap.

How am I going to recognize him?  I've only seen pictures and I'm lousy about faces.  Shit!  I hadn't thought of that.  How will I know it's him?

Oh, for Christ's Sake, girl, put your big girl panties on and Let's Do This!

I took a deep breath, grabbed the door handle, threw the door open and got out of the car before my mind could figure out what my body was doing.  I closed the door, leaned against it and maybe threw up a little again.

Now what?  Stop stalling and just go!

Once my body was freed from the confines of the car, it seemed to know what to do.  One foot in front of the other across the parking lot and up onto the sidewalk.  A quick glance in the window.

Oh my God!  There he is!

All I could see was his back, but I knew it was him.  I gained confidence as I entered the doors and turned to my left.  There he was, walking toward me with a long-stemmed red rose in his hand.  We hugged forever and I felt him shaking like a leaf.

Poor guy, he's in worse shape than I am.

When he spoke, even his voice shook.  We found a table near the coffee shop and started talking.  I couldn't take my eyes off of his; the shirt he was wearing made his green eyes look blue, and his eyelashes were unbelievably long.  I was jealous of those eyelashes.  I even noticed his nose - people pay a lot of money to have a nose like his.  Who notices stuff like that?  Someone who's head-over-heels for a guy she'd only ever "spoken to" via email.

He shook for an hour.  We talked about everything under the sun.  I fantasized about curling up on a couch with him.  He was a cuddle bug, I could tell just by looking.

Four hours later, we both agreed that it was time to part.

An hour after that, we actually left the store.  He said he had something for me in his truck, so I went out the back way with him.  He checked out my ass.  He denies it; I felt it.  At his truck, he reached in and handed me a picture he had drawn of me and Meeker.

He leaned in for the kiss, chickened out, and gave me a goodbye hug instead.

Back in my car, I felt something I hadn't in a long time.  Hope.  Despite having "hope" tattoo'd on my ankle, it was hard to hold onto.

~~~

Hard to believe that was March 22, 2008, two years ago today.  Seems like we've spent our whole lives together.

I love you, Sexy Man.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tomorrow's the big Two-Oh-Oh! 

Come join in the fun and maybe you'll win one of my favorite things!

~~~~~~~~~~
Head on over to Jack Sh*t, Gettin' Fit for some funny weight loss stories -
One of them is mine!

Voyeurism Via Email

Gotcha!

Now that I've got your attention, I'm guest posting today over at T!nK's place, This Is How It Feels.  He's taking a little bloggy vacation and asked some of his blogging buddies to contribute a love story of their own.

My contribution isn't exactly a love story, but it is the story of the first time I met the RockCrawlinChef in real life; it's an email that I sent to my friends after our first meeting.  I'm pretty sure after six weeks of emailing multiple times a day and our initial meeting, I was head-over-heels in love with the Chef, but couldn't admit it to myself. 

Hop on over to T!nK's if you're just dying to see how screwed-up, mixed-up, I-don't-know-which-end-is-up I was over meeting him for the first time.

The Best Temper Tantrum I've Ever Had

Today marks the two year anniversary of the best temper tantrum I've ever had.

The RockCrawlinChef and I don't celebrate Valentine's Day.  We have no desire to.  Now, let me explain.  We "met" because of a temper tantrum I had after Valentine's Day in 2008.  I'd been a divorced, single mom for going on eleven years at the time and I was not a pleasant person.  I was working way too much, worrying way too much, and tired as hell about doing it all on my own.  I was D-O-N-E.

A friend of mine and I had signed up for Cupid.com mostly because we thought it would be fun to go speed dating and in order to register we had to be members of Cupid.com.  Not a problem, we signed up for our free profiles and went speed dating.  Oh, God, that was a disaster for another time.  I'd even "met" a couple of guys and been out on *one* date with someone I met on-line.  Also disasters for another time.

Valentine's Day 2008 did me in.  I was a royal damn bitch.  There was no one safe around me.  Like I said, I was D-O-N-E.  I was one of those bitter bitches that you'd see on the street and cross to the other side just to get out of my way. 

I still had not completely recovered from my world-class hate-fest when I logged onto Cupid on February 16th, but I was slightly less bitter and in the frame of mind that if I couldn't find just one profile that I'd throw in the towel and become the crazy horse woman I was on the path of becoming anyway.

I went throught page after page of profiles, getting more and more frustrated, when I came across this headline...

"Maybe... just maybe she's out there." 

It piqued my interest and I clicked on RCC's profile.  He was smart.  And articulate.  And liked to travel.  And liked to shoot.  Could it be?  Could I really have just found someone I could connect with?

Before I could second guess myself, I sent him an eye contact, "We might make a good match."

And so it began...weeks of daily emails.  In the beginning, just once a day, which quickly grew to multiple emails a day.  I began to feel something I thought had died long ago - HOPE.  Really, he might be a nice, genuine guy.  After six weeks, we decided to meet in person.  His choice.  He chose Barnes and Noble - no pressure of eating, a neutral spot that we could both make an escape from if we needed to.

We met.  Five hours later, we left B&N fast friends. 

Twelve weeks later, we got engaged. 

Eleven months after that, we got married.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Odd Realization

Just saw a picture of my ex-boyfriend on a friend's Facebook and I realized, "Wow, that wasn't painful at all."  What surfaced were old, fond, fun memories, not the hurtful, hateful, you've-ripped-my-heart-out,-threw-it-in-a-Waring-blender-and-set-it-on-frappe memories.  For the first time since we broke up, when I saw his picture, I thought, "we could maybe be friends."  Odd realization.  I never thought I'd get to that place.

I wasted a good number of years (yes, years, as my girls will attest to) wishing I could have what I lost.  Only now, looking back, that relationship wasn't right for me.  He did a lot of good things for me, but perhaps the single most important thing he did was introduce me to the girls.  I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for them.  For that, I say, "Thank You, Brian, with all my heart." 

Know what else I realized?  He wasn't the right man for me.  Actually, I realized that years ago, but it took finding the right man, my true soulmate, to drive the point home.  Brian was good for me, yes, but he was not right for me. 

RCC is.  RCC is the perfect man for me.  We complement each other's weaknesses and strengthen each other with unwavering support and I love him more than I thought it was possible to love another human being.  I had given up on finding a relationship and sure the hell didn't believe in a soulmate.  I thought romance writers were a bunch of loonies with their Happily Ever Afters. 

Bah!  No such thing.
 
Until I met RCC and got my own HEA.