This weekend marks an anniversary of sorts for CBG and I. It’s the anniversary of us getting back together. For those of you may not have been here reading my blog from the start, there is the little twist to our love story. CBG and I got together in early December of 2008. We dated for about three months or so.
And then we broke up.
The reasons for this were complicated; I was too fresh out of my marriage and did not have my act together. CBG allowed fear to rule his own decision-making processes. The simplified version of the story is that together, these two things led to the quick demise of our relationship.
This break up happened despite us still having strong feelings for one another. We both tried moving on with our lives, but we just couldn’t seem to fully let go. And then, three months after breaking up, we began communicating again, and made an impulsive decision to spend a weekend together — no promises, no commitment… just two people spending time together to see how it felt again and what would happen.
And now, three years later, here we are on the cusp of another life-changing time together. I’ve been thinking a lot about our “reunion weekend” three years ago, the weekend that turned out to be a total game-changer for the two of us, helping us re-define our relationship for the better.
What follows is the blog post that I wrote after that fateful weekend together three years ago.
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I couldn’t even wait for him to get inside. I saw his car pull in behind my building and I ran out to meet him, breathless, trembling.
It had been almost three months since we’d last seen each other. Three months and an ocean of tears. Three months of lonely nights. Three months of trying to forget about him. Three months of continuing to read his blog posts every single day even after I promised myself that I wouldn’t. Three months of online dating, trying to find someone who would take my mind off a man that I still loved, even though I didn’t want (and tried not) to.
There were more to those three months, though. They were three months of growth and healing. Three months of learning to stand on my own two feet. Three months of learning that I can take care of myself. Three months of learning that I am stronger than I ever thought possible. Three months of learning that I could find happiness all on my own.
Things went wrong the first time…on both our parts. There were lessons that needed to be learned – apart. My only wish was that we could have done it without hurting each other so much first.
But all that is behind us now. I felt it the second that he dropped everything that he was carrying to scoop me up in his arms and hug me like a man who was back from the brink of death. All thoughts of “we’ll just wait and see how things go” immediately went out the window. I was in his arms…he was in mine…and that was all that mattered.
I don’t know what the future holds for us. None of us do, really. I can be okay with that…because what we have right here, right now, is enough. I know what love is…and I am intensely grateful for it. Because in the past three days I have felt more love and joy than some people ever get to experience in their lives.
I believe in love because I have seen it in his eyes, tasted it on his lips, felt it in his touch, heard it in his voice.
And even if I never get to feel exactly this way ever again, it will still be enough.