Good God this is horrible. Left.
Why am I doing this? Left.
I can’t believe I got talked into downloading this stupid app. Left.
I’m going to turn this stupid thing off. Left.
Oh hey, he’s cute. He likes fun and food and beer and whiskey?
Pause. Lef…. Right.
I should just delete this app.
I’ll definitely do that tomorrow. This sucks. Whatever.
Being single is fine. I don’t need anybody.
Apparently, he thought I was cute and since I declared my love for bourbon in my profile, too, he swiped right. We talked for hours, learned we were both from Middle Georgia, and set a date to meet for drinks three days later.
I knew from the minute I saw him, he was going to be Trouble with a capital T.
But he was easy to talk to. He made me feel calm, like a human Klonopin. Being around him made me smile on the inside, and according to many, on the outside as well.
One date turned to two, then three and four and five and the next thing we know, we’re making plans together. To go away for Christmas. For him to go to Disney with me. A surprise weekend away in Savannah. Germany to celebrate his 40th birthday at Oktoberfest. Restaurants to try. Cities to visit. A whole list of things we wanted to do. Together.
It all felt a little like being a teenager again. The butterflies and the cheesy late-night texts and date nights. The nerves over saying the words “I love you” to him when you think you know he loves you, but you’re not quite sure.
The difference, though, between now and when I was a teen, is that there were kids thrown in there. Mine with me during the week and at his dad’s on the weekends. His two girls at their mom’s except every other weekend. I grew to love his girls (well, I didn’t really have to grow to love them, I adored them from day one) and he and Henry developed a mutual love for each other.
Our kids all met and from the minute they were introduced, they acted like siblings – arguing one minute, coming up with ways to make their dad marry his mom the next, and finding shows to binge and enjoy together. All of their conspiring led to a last-minute trip to Hilton Head Island for a weekend. We all piled in the car (my new one that was bought with the idea that it needed to seat not one, but three children) and headed off on what really was a Family Vacation. It felt like we’d been this little crew forever.
We had become a family. Me. Him. One boy. Two girls. Far from the Brady Bunch, but a motley crew nonetheless. It works. We all work. We fit together like pieces of a puzzle.
This past week, Brian and the kids (14, 12, 8) kept a pretty big secret from me. With Henry’s permission, on Sunday morning, after having me watch an incredibly sweet (and cheesy) video of all the things we’ve done together and as a family, Brian asked if I would marry him.
Of course, I said, “YES.”
And once I settled down a little from being so excited and surprised, I realized that this is what your heart feels like when it is truly content.
It feels like being outside on a cool, crisp day, wrapped in a blanket. It feels like the first sips of hot chocolate on a freezing day and a cold beer on a steamy day. It feels like a blissful dream where you’re lost in a field of gorgeous flowers under a bright blue sky, never be found. It feels like the promise of a new day with every sunrise. It feels like an ocean being warmed by the sun*.
It feels like home.
It feels like love.
It feels like this.
*Lyrics Courtesy of The Shins, Simple Song
PS: Fun Fact of the Day. My word for 2017 is content. And I’ve found it.