I'm In Love...And You'll Just Have to Deal With That

Gross...I know.

I know a lot of people. Those that I'm closest to are mostly old friends from grade school and high school that I don't actually see as I live in Colorado and they're mostly in Ohio. But we manage to keep in touch through the typical social media outlet of Facebook, sharing mainly stupid memes, countless posts about coffee or food, and lots and lots of pictures. The people I know here I met mainly through my son's school or through now former relationships. There's been a little hushed judgement from a handful of people for my recently announced new relationship following a seemingly sudden breakup. For those people mostly, and for anyone else interested, I'd like to share with you this amazing new journey I'm on and how it came to be.

Most of you know I was married before. Twice actually. The first when I was 22, a relationship that lasted five years, only one of which we were married, and the second when I was 25, a relationship that lasted eight years, six of which we were married. Both were definitely mistakes, both made with only the best of intentions but just weren't meant to be. Add to that the 3 year relationship that ended this year, and that's 16 years of my life with the wrong 3 people...I don't go on dates, I go on relationships.

My first husband was a great friend. We got along most of the time, but we were always just roommates. I wanted to make it work to avoid being a statistic because of having had a child and giving her up for adoption. We were still very much a part of her life (open adoption was an amazing blessing for me) as the adoption wasn't because we didn't want her, but because neither of us were ready to be parents, and I had gone through so much turmoil growing up that I was terrified I would ruin her life. I needed help, guidance, and time to mature before I was be someone's sole supporter and successfully raise a capable adult...a decision I have never regretted and completely stand by. We have a great relationship to this day and her mother and I are family. There has never been a day that I didn't acknowledge that I have a daughter as well as a son, and they have always known each other as siblings. I needed a companion as a spouse. Someone who was more than a friend. A supporter, a partner, someone to set goals with and work towards future plans with. We just never had that. We didn't end our relationship in hate. We simply went our separate ways.

The second marriage was a complete surprise to me...and not really a great one. When we found out we were pregnant early in the relationship, he suggested we get married. After the last one, I said no. I didn't want a child to be the reason we got married as that didn't work out the first time. We needed time to be together and make sure it was what we wanted. A year later, after things had calmed a bit and our son was a year old (we fought a lot...a lot...) he took me to a national park and we were married...It was just us, our son, the woman who performed the ceremony by the river and her husband as witness. It certainly wasn't ideal, but it was much like our relationship - private, uneventful, and strange. We spent the next 6 years fighting, dealing with my OCD and anxiety disorder, and his narcissistic tendencies and not so gentle temper. I feared leaving my son alone with him at a young age when he wasn't old enough to completely communicate because of an incident I won't out him for, but it was a choice to keep my son safe. So I waited. And every year, he told me he wanted a divorce. And every year he would rescind the request when I would say ok, changing just enough to be the sweet spouse he was supposed to be until things calmed down, then right back to it. It was a tiring game, and nothing makes you feel more unwanted than someone saying they don't want to be with you for nearly a decade. I don't blame either of them. I know I have my faults and troubles. You'll only ever get one part of any story anyway...and we all know there are three sides to every story. His, hers, and the truth.

The most recent relationship I was in lasted 3 years. I had met him while still with my last husband at a party we were invited to. He became a friend to both of us, but we spent more time together as I liked to get out and husband #2 didn't. We only ever went out as friends and always with other people around. It wasn't until 6 months later when I went into the hospital with the blood clot and husband #2 had moved out and our divorce was filed, that we ended up dating. The doctors at the hospital were concerned about me going home alone with no one but my then 7 year old son to be there in case something happened. The guy was with me in the hospital and he says that it was then that he realized he wanted to be with me, because of the fear of what could have happened with the clot. He ended up coming home with me, sleeping on the couch out of respect for both me and my son as husband #2 was just fresh out of the house and I was in no condition for a relationship...He then helped us move into a new place and just stayed. There was never really a conversation about him moving in, he wasn't even on the lease. It just sort of happened and we never did anything about it. And we had our troubles. He screwed around in the beginning. A lot. And I was aware of it and I just felt like this was what I get. I'm the girl they want to be with, they just don't want to be faithful. We made it work...but we fought. I didn't trust him, he couldn't fix it. He did eventually seem to change a little, but his changes just weren't completely believable. His behavior and attitude toward both my son and me changed, his tone was shitty, his words were often unkind, and I was constantly telling him to be nice, talk nice. It got old. We bought a house last year. Mainly because rent in this area went waaaaay up and we couldn't afford renting a house anymore. And I refuse to raise my son in a crappy apartment complex when we were perfectly capable of buying. So we bought a house in a neighborhood I was not thrilled about. And his crappy tone continued. It was St. Patrick's Day evening that was the final straw for me. We had been talking about the future, about a business I wanted to start, and we began branching off of it, finding ways to make it bigger and incorporate his ideas into it. It was when I suggested he get a business degree that it all fell apart. My intention was for him to hone in on his people skills and focus on HR. He's always been good with people, but needed to be taught how to be more neutral...a simple business skill that would put him in a better place for managing a business. It all went well for a bit, until something in him snapped. An argument ensued, I was accused of badgering and acting like his mother. That was it. I was done. I had been supportive, I had been encouraging, I was there when he joined bands and purchased music, I encouraged friendships and even continued to support his drinking habits. But I was done. I was accused of something that wasn't me and I was tired of trying for nothing. So I asked him to move out. It was initially supposed to be a temporary thing. To give us both space and for him to learn to be on his own again, not so co-dependent on me and to realize what he had with us. But the moment he stepped out the door, he turned back in to the guy who screwed around with countless women. He destroyed what he had worked for for the past 3 years. And when he tells the story today to his friends when they ask what happened, it's spun differently...regretfully. Like a reformed man who just isn't given a fair shot. And it's ok, to those of you who feel like I did something hurtful. As I said when it all happened, I wasn't telling anyone the story. It was a private matter that was supposed to be handled by adults, not a reality tv episode that would allow everyone to divulge their own perceptions and opinions and draw up more drama. Especially since it involved my son. And the bottom line...we just weren't right for each other.

So I wasn't looking for a relationship. I was doing fine on my own. I was being me and told myself "not this time...you're not going to bounce right into another relationship". And I did good. Until he came along. This tall, quiet, muscular, handsome, hardworking father of a man. He lives near me. I had seen him a bit over the time I've lived here, all the time thinking how attractive he was but never for a moment thinking I would ever be his type. He obviously works out, he keeps to himself, he has a son. We've chatted a few times, usually when he was at the park with his son or walking to the mailbox by my house. He's an electrician. I had some lights I wanted put in my kitchen and it was suggested that I ask him to do it. He agreed and had to bring his son with him, who my son gladly invited to his room to play while he worked. So I sat in the kitchen, feeling awkward and making sure I was out of the way, but close enough that we could at least chat while he was there. We talked a lot, about our relationships (mine was just ending with the aforementioned and he was in one he wasn't completely sold on). I remember at one moment we talked about true love, the kind of love in old movies. I told him I didn't think it existed anymore, that the idea of monogamy and loyalty and true love is lost our generation. He disagreed. We got to know each other a little better that day and became friends, still not really seeing each other much, but I felt like I knew him...from another time. We had chatted a bit off and on for about a month, usually about his girlfriend and if I knew anyone who could help her find a job. Then one day I asked him a question about some random thing and told him I hoped they were all doing well. He informed me they broke up. We chatted about both situations and, after his plans for a movie night with friends fell through, we agreed to get together, have a beer, and complain about relationships and life.

We spent a good week getting to know one another. We had really good talks and just spent time being in the same space. But I still wasn't convinced. I liked this guy...a lot. And I didn't want to. I'm honestly completely drained of the ability to be hurt any more. So I put him off, told him I just wanted to be friends. And when I was starting to think I should come around and give it a go, he gave me a similar speech...that he was going to try to give it a go with an old girlfriend. I put on the brave face and a friendly smile, gave him the ol' pat on the arm and told him that was great and that I'd always be his friend and he was welcome over any time, for beer, food, company. And I walked inside my house. I closed my door and sat on the entry way floor and cried. There was something about him. A pull I hadn't felt before, like I found the thing that was missing all my life. And I just patted it on the arm and gave it away.

It wasn't but a couple of days later that we were both having a crappy day and he suggested we have a beer and rant for a minute. The girl ditched him, in a very tacky way. I brought over a beer for each of us and we sat in his living room, awkwardly, and talked about it. When I finished my beer, I felt like I should go. I knew I couldn't just be his friend. I liked how I felt with him, like I belonged there, and I couldn't go with the idea that he would be with someone else. So I got up to leave, he got up with me. He stood in front of me and put his hands on my arms, then my face, kissed me and I pulled away. Told him I had to go. He looked at me and said "It's there, isn't it?" And I just had to go. I walked out the door and down the street to my house and that was it. I was his. It's just there. And we've been together every single day since. I finally get it. I know what it is to actually love someone with everything, and I now know what it is to feel loved in every way possible. I feel like I've known him my whole life, like he has been there since my teenage years at least. I can see him in my past, he fits right in with my friends, my lifestyle, I adore his friends, we have similar ideas and goals and we're supportive of each other. We have plans and are working toward those plans, not just staying stagnant and talking about them. We belong. And for the first time ever, I feel whole. We can spend hours just gabbing away about nothing and being in the same space. We can sit in the grass all day and not feel like we need to be doing something else. We get along, we have fun, we know how to handle each other when we're having an off day, we communicate, we care, and we laugh. He makes everything terrible seem so small, he makes all the bad so insignificant because we have so much more than any of the past will ever be. He's patient...god is he patient with me, and he understands. We both have anxiety, and neither of us has been particularly bad with it since we've been together. It just works. There's no adjusting, no pretending to like what the other likes just for the beginning of a relationship only to be honest and hate those things later...We do what we do and it works. And I'm happy. I'm so disgustingly, happily, happy.

So there it is. This is a new me, and I love it. I absolutely love every part of it. I will remind myself every chance I get that this is the best thing that has ever happened in my life and I will respect it and cherish it. Because it means so much to me. And for anyone who doesn't understand, or who still thinks I'm doing something wrong, I can't help you. This is life. Mine specifically, and I can't keep letting others call the shots.

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