Have I ever told you the story of how I met Boyfriend?
It’s not very glamorous, nor in anyway particularly memorable, really, and perhaps, the one thing you could say for it, in any wistful way, is simply how utterly and unfailingly normal, mundane, even, it was in the way that it happened. We met, like countless others of our generation, via an online dating site, just another happy statistic in a sea of “We didn’t quite connect” and “How I got matched with that guy, I’ll never know.” Sparks didn’t fly, trumpets didn’t blare in my head the first time we met, and in fact I think my first thought when seeing him was: “Huh, he’s tall.”
A few drinks, a few nervous giggles, me wondering at what point he might pick up on some of my more nerdy traits, trying hard not to talk about knitting, or Mystery Science Theater: 3000, or any of the other things that no doubt complete me as a person but could understandably have the tendency to, I believed, intially scare off someone who seemed so, well, regular. And handsome. And tall, as I already mentioned. And with baby-blue eyes that were set off by his checked shirt…
Date over, we parted our separate ways, he reaching in for a chaste hug and a shy “I had a nice time.” He walked away without looking back. My heart plunked about a quarter-inch deeper into my chest, and then I shrugged it off, walked to my car, and drove home.
Fifteen minutes later, the happy PING! of a text message. Smiles, and sighs, and giddy words, hastily typed while reclining in bed. The sound of PING! continuing through the night.
Two days later, movies at his house, meeting his roommates (already!). Apprehensive, shy, and then, relaxed, comfortable.
One week later, wishing him goodbye as he took off across the country for the holidays. PING! continued throughout the time apart.
Days later, at the baggage claim, waiting for his suitcase, the creaky noise of the turnstile piercing the night, standing in each other’s arms, the hug too long but feeling just right, content and happy.
Two weeks total for boyfriend to carve out a little place in my heart. I hadn’t quite noticed until I looked inward and there he was, the little sneak.
Weeks, months, now years have gone by, whooshing forward ever faster, experiences and moves and heartaches and triumphs and depression and fulfillment and joy, and joy, and JOY, and it can all boil back to that moment, that fleetest of feelings, when I looked over at him sitting on my couch, holding my hand, and smiled broadly and thought, “Oh. Here you are. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. Where have you been?”
No matter who, or what, or where you are, if there is something you seek, and you want it enough, you will find it.
Don’t give up hope.
You will find it.