Lest you be tempted to think – I’m not going to contradict anything my betrothed has said.
I just want to give my side because I can.
So . . . starting May 13th, 2008 . . .
We exchanged e-mails, I gave him my number, and he called me. That night we talked for two hours. TWO HOURS! I went to bed that night with the thought “What am I getting myself into?! He’s 5 hours away, 42 . . . gack!” After 2 1/2 weeks, red flags started to arise. He expressed concern and told me to back off. I’m a little too feisty for my own good. I don’t have a history of reacting well when a guy turns me down.
We kept communicating. September rolls around and – via e-mail – he brings up the reasons he had broke it off a few months prior. My emotion meter starts to break. I finally end the e-mail exchange by saying “Any further response from me is going to be verbal”. He calls me that night. After a half hour or so of conversation, he states “I would like to pursue you again.” The words I thought I would never hear. ACK!!! I decide – in the heat of the moment – that he is going to have to call my pastor. I put myself through unnecessary distress in Round 1 by going at it on my own.
He said that he would call Wednesday. Now, I had no real reason to doubt him, but nothing like this had ever happened to me before. In my heart of hearts I’m thinking “No guy is going to put any real effort into a relationship with me.” But I attempt to play it cool. That Wednesday, I ended up going to a funeral/homegoing service. I had taken the day off of work and took the time to go to Bible Study and give my pastor a heads up. If there was anyone who was going to be cynical and give a thumbs down it will be him.
That evening, after small groups, I asked my pastor how it went. We talked and he gave a “Cautiously optimistic” thumbs up. “Oh, and this time let him pursue you.” This went against the grain of the scant amount of feminist tendencies I have.
About 24 hours later I am FREAKING out. I am crying at my cube and bawling on the drive home. I talked the aforementioned Delta family. Mr. & Mrs. Delta encouraged me to look to the Promised Land. Egypt is being left behind.
Friday comes. Again, I bawl like crazy on the way home. In the mean time, I’m not eating very well and I’m not sleeping. My nerves are shot and my judgment is more than a little cloudy. I come home, drop on my bed, and wake up two hours later. I am at the end up of my emotional rope.
I go to Starbucks – oh, the irony – fire up my laptop and shoot Amir an e-mail stating my inability to see this through and that we just need to forego this whole thing. He – not ever meeting me & wrestling with God over this – sees this as Providence and accepts the fact that I’m calling it off. Speaking of fairy tales, I had not envisioned this actually happening. I was expecting him to calm my fears by speaking of his enduring passion for me and that I had nothing to worry about. Ah, the ignorance on my part. Thank God I can laugh at it now.
We exchange e-mails over the next week or so and decide that we’ll re-evaluate in six months. In the mean time the Delta family rips me a deserved new one. My pastor does not stop them.
There are some things that come up on his end and it seems as if we’re never going to meet. Things clear up and we meet.
March 28, 2009
I am more nervous than I have ever been in recent memory. I can barely contain myself. As I get ready for “the day”, I sit frozen on my couch for about 20 minutes. I eventually head over to Charlie Delta’s and I am helping out, kind of. I get antsy and check the weather along his travel route. I have the smallest Delta in my arms, getting ready to change his diaper.
The phone rings.
Poor Smallest Delta practically gets dropped on the floor as I leap across the room to answer my phone. (True story) Amir is frazzled and I side-swipe him with the news that Mrs. Delta is joining us.
40 minutes later, I pull into Cracker Barrel. Alone. (Charlie Delta is not far behind.) I start peeking through the crowd to find Mr. 5’3″. He approaches me, tips his ball cap, and we chat for a few minutes. Charlie Delta comes in and eventually we sit down.
I am still a bundle of nerves at this point. Too nervous to speak. Too nervous to eat. (I had a grand total of 4 bites of my salad.) After about 2 hours, I begin to calm down.
We make our way to hang out spot #2 and chat. I am enjoying his company at this point and am starting to be at peace with the thought that he really is a decent guy.
When he part the next day, he states his intention to come back.
We were talking several times a week in the next couple of months. I really start to like this guy a lot. I start to think that, perhaps, this is too good to be true.
I was thinking it would all be easy, cotton candy, & bunnies. Different issues arise unexpectedly and I have minor panic attacks at various times. This gives him quite the line for handing me the ring . . .
From my vantage point I couldn’t have created someone better if I wanted to.