Worth The Wait

I can’t really believe I’m writing this… because I can’t really believe I’m here. Here, right here. Madly, deeply, courageously in love.
This is our story. The story of him and her.
A few years ago, my friend was dating his friend. We had heard of one another and, thanks to the internet, found each other’s pictures and words online. (Thank you, myspace.) He lived in Las Vegas and I lived in Seattle. We had never uttered a single word to one another, but somehow we developed secret little crushes on each other. Secret from everyone. Secret from even each other. When we finally met last year, when I finally laid eyes on him coming down that escalator, that was it. That moment changed my whole life.
We are so different. He is a triathlete and I’m lucky if I don’t trip crossing the street. He’s politically conservative and the day Obama was elected might have been one of the happiest days of my life. Through all of our differences, though, he is my heart.
We both had to sacrifice a lot to be together. Our situations weren’t ideal when we met, so we had to really ask ourselves if this was worth it. We dated long distance, taking turns flying to see one another once a month, for what felt like forever. There was never any “Are we or aren’t we dating? Could this be serious?” from across multiple states. It was too much work unless this could really be something. And, from the very beginning, from that very first night we met, it really was something.
He had had several serious relationships before me. He had loved and been loved by people I’m sure were lovely. I had not been as lucky in love. For whatever reason, I just didn’t see a great love in my future. So, I decided that I would construct a life just for me, a life I could truly love and I did. Deep down, however, there was a hole, a hole where l wished love could live.
When I met him, when I finally met him, I was thirty years old. I was thirty years old and I had found the first, and perhaps only, true love of my life. He wasn’t who I imagined for myself. He was more and he was less, but he was perfect. Perfectly imperfect for me. He filled the empty space in my heart that I think might have always been waiting just for him.
A few months ago, I packed my bags and moved to Las Vegas. This gal from rainy Seattle moved to the desert for love. It’s harder than I expected and I’ll be the first to admit that it’s a lot of work, but it never, ever ceases to be worth it. Every day he makes me laugh. Every day he makes me feel loved. Every day he makes me remember how happy I am that I waited all those years to meet him.
We talk about our future, about our wedding, about our babies, but I’m a realist. A realist writing about love. I don’t know, can’t possibly know for certain, what will happen for us in the future. What I can say is that I’ve found my best friend and that knowing, loving and walking through this crazy, difficult, happy journey with him has made me a better person. I guess that’s the thing about our love that means the most to me.
We make each other better. Every day.
- Kathleen