The last 24 hours has been more emotional than I had ever anticipated...mainly anger. Along with jealousy, I despise anger. They are two horrible emotions and bring out the worst in people.
So I did the only thing that usually snaps me out of it: I exercised. For 3 hours, I walked as fast as my legs would take me. It wasn't fast enough. It wasn't long enough. I am still angry.
I am angry at my parents for putting me in this position. And, more so, I am angry at myself for not having the guts to fight them on it a year ago. I completely disagree with their rationale and am angry that they chose to impose that on me. Angry at myself for allowing them to do that. Angry at myself for making a sacrifice for them that has resulted in perhaps losing one of the best things I had. Angry that I made a sacrifice based on beliefs that I don't even share or agree with!!
I've lived my life without regrets. I've always tried to make decisions that were true to who I was so that I wouldn't have any regrets - I don't believe in them.
Well, I didn't. Not fighting more this past year would be my first regret. Not standing up for what I believe in, that is a regret.
The anger will subside eventually. The guilt of the regret may not as quickly. One day at a time. One workout at a time. One deep breath at a time.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Saturday, May 28, 2011
It's over.
Joe briefly showed up on Skype, after 5 months, yesterday. It was the first time I'd seen him online or really attempted any communication with him. It was a random chat - nothing fantastic. I didn't know whether or not to tell him that my mom had slightly, backhandedly, conceded. I mean, I was caught completely off-guard by her concession a week ago. I was finally figuring out ways to move on and forget about Joe and live my life again, then SMACK, Joe's back in the picture...
I found out from a mutual friend that he's well and happy. Things seem to be going well with his new girlfriend. Maybe it's what he needs - someone other than me. Who am I to break apart two people if they are happy? She affectionately calls him 'sweets'. It would be relatively cruel for me to just spring this onto him...no?
I don't know. The other side of it is that if I really want this, should I not say something? Is it not fair for me, for Joe to understand what really happened a year ago and where things are now? I always used to tell him 'wait til I'm 30 - my parents will be so worried that I'm not married that they'll come around', and that's pretty much what's happening...
After the recommendations of many friends, I finally told Joe what happened over the last week. I was nervous as heavens. He listened, and then apologized.
"I'm sorry, Anika, I'm really happy. She's the one for me and I'm going to marry her," he said.
"That's great," I replied, "I'm really happy for you, Joe."
We exchanged pleasantries about life and talked a bit. I finally asked when they would get married and he said that he was going to propose in the coming weeks. He had a ring and they hoped to get married in December.
I fought back tears for the rest of the conversation. We talked for nearly an hour. Our friendship would eventually survive. But my heart was broken. Shattered, in fact. I had been with the guy for nearly ten years and had grown with him - we'd become the people we were today because of each other. A year ago, he asked me if he should wait for me. I told him that I couldn't do that to him - it would be selfish of me to ask him. And so, I let him go, hoping that one day everything would be less complicated.
Well, it's definitely less complicated now. I had essentially helped him become who he was today and given him away to someone else...or that's at least how it felt.
He's happy and I'm truly happy for him (as tears roll down my cheeks). He was the best thing that happened to me - he taught me how to love, how to care, how to laugh. And, he taught me how to deal with life's funniest twists and turns, and how to face them all with dignity and grace. For that, I am eternally thankful.
Oh - I never really told anyone why I chose this blog url. I had one of the toughest days at work. I felt horrible, I'd had a bad day and things weren't looking good to get home anytime before 2am. I texted Joe. I was tired and cranky and had changed into sweats for the last part of my workday (10pm onwards). He told me that I would always be his 'babe' and princess. I felt further from being a princess than ever before, and I told him that. As usual, I was wearing Roots sweatpants, toe-socks and a hoodie. Appropriately, he texted back: "No matter where we are in this life together or apart, you will always be my princess toe-socks". The name stuck.
Chapter, sadly, closed.
I found out from a mutual friend that he's well and happy. Things seem to be going well with his new girlfriend. Maybe it's what he needs - someone other than me. Who am I to break apart two people if they are happy? She affectionately calls him 'sweets'. It would be relatively cruel for me to just spring this onto him...no?
I don't know. The other side of it is that if I really want this, should I not say something? Is it not fair for me, for Joe to understand what really happened a year ago and where things are now? I always used to tell him 'wait til I'm 30 - my parents will be so worried that I'm not married that they'll come around', and that's pretty much what's happening...
After the recommendations of many friends, I finally told Joe what happened over the last week. I was nervous as heavens. He listened, and then apologized.
"I'm sorry, Anika, I'm really happy. She's the one for me and I'm going to marry her," he said.
"That's great," I replied, "I'm really happy for you, Joe."
We exchanged pleasantries about life and talked a bit. I finally asked when they would get married and he said that he was going to propose in the coming weeks. He had a ring and they hoped to get married in December.
I fought back tears for the rest of the conversation. We talked for nearly an hour. Our friendship would eventually survive. But my heart was broken. Shattered, in fact. I had been with the guy for nearly ten years and had grown with him - we'd become the people we were today because of each other. A year ago, he asked me if he should wait for me. I told him that I couldn't do that to him - it would be selfish of me to ask him. And so, I let him go, hoping that one day everything would be less complicated.
Well, it's definitely less complicated now. I had essentially helped him become who he was today and given him away to someone else...or that's at least how it felt.
He's happy and I'm truly happy for him (as tears roll down my cheeks). He was the best thing that happened to me - he taught me how to love, how to care, how to laugh. And, he taught me how to deal with life's funniest twists and turns, and how to face them all with dignity and grace. For that, I am eternally thankful.
Oh - I never really told anyone why I chose this blog url. I had one of the toughest days at work. I felt horrible, I'd had a bad day and things weren't looking good to get home anytime before 2am. I texted Joe. I was tired and cranky and had changed into sweats for the last part of my workday (10pm onwards). He told me that I would always be his 'babe' and princess. I felt further from being a princess than ever before, and I told him that. As usual, I was wearing Roots sweatpants, toe-socks and a hoodie. Appropriately, he texted back: "No matter where we are in this life together or apart, you will always be my princess toe-socks". The name stuck.
Chapter, sadly, closed.
Make up your mind, fate.
I don't understand. I really don't. Is this the universe's idea of a cruel joke? Why do we meet people that we're not 'meant' to be with? What does that even mean? Is this some sort of test? Here, meeting this awesome person who will make you sooooo happy....just kidding, you're not allowed to be with him despite the crazy connection the two of you have. mwahahahaha. Not funny. Or is it a test to see whether I have the strength to break from the norm? Either way, I am not a fan of tests.
I was recently talking to my mom who had been running a few errands. Along the way, she encountered a guy who supposedly could tell the future. As she's incredibly worried about my single status, she spoke to him about me. The guy said that he was surprised that I hadn't gotten married last year as the stars were aligned and things looked very strong. As she relayed this story to me, she also added that she neglected to tell him about Walter. I cut the conversation short as I was annoyed that every single time 'boys' were discussed, Joe was left out of it. He was conveniently forgotten about and it was as if he never existed!
I found myself walking in the park with my mom a couple of days later. I'm not sure how we got back to the subject of boys (then again, when are we not talking about boys), but I calmly explained to my mom that it wasn't fair that Joe was continuously left out. He was the biggest part of my life to that point and it was ridiculous to pretend that the entire fight or discussion never occurred. While I didn't understand why they reacted the way they did, I explained that I had to accept it and was trying to move on. The situation had not been forgotten, however.
What seemed like out of nowhere, my mom says "well, if you really think that he's the right person for you, then just marry him. I can't stop you - you're almost 30. I don't want to be blamed, down the road, if you don't find anyone else. It'll ruin the family name in the community, but if it's what you think is best, then you should just go ahead and marry him. Parents adapt - they always do. I may not like it and may retreat for awhile, but eventually I will have to adapt, too. It's hard to watch you go through your life, single. Maybe I overreacted a year ago, I'm sorry."
Excuse me? Are you kidding? (you must be) Are you just saying that? (probably) Do you actually mean it? (likely not) Are you saying that because I've already told you that Joe has moved in with his new girlfriend in Australia and is moving on with his life? (well, you're not a malicious person so probably not, it's just coincidence) Now, a year later, you are giving me permission (albeit slightly backhandedly) to marry the guy I've tried to fight for, for the last how many years? I've tried to get over it in the last year and now it's back in front of me as an actual option... or are you just messing with me??
Why is it that women are always left to balance both cultures? I have been born and raised in Canada - this is not how we think - we don't worry about 'family name in society'. We worry about world peace and equality for all. We do our best to balance both worlds and find and live the best values from each. We don't marry to 'fall in love later', but fall in love and then marry. How is it possible for guys to get away with things? If they married outside of the culture, the girl would be blamed for whisking the boy away from the culture. But, if a girl marries outside of her culture, it's all her fault and who could she shame the family like that?
WTF?!?!?! Where's The Fruit!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!" (I don't like to swear, WTF = where's the fruit)
Make up your mind, fate, please, make up your mind.
I was recently talking to my mom who had been running a few errands. Along the way, she encountered a guy who supposedly could tell the future. As she's incredibly worried about my single status, she spoke to him about me. The guy said that he was surprised that I hadn't gotten married last year as the stars were aligned and things looked very strong. As she relayed this story to me, she also added that she neglected to tell him about Walter. I cut the conversation short as I was annoyed that every single time 'boys' were discussed, Joe was left out of it. He was conveniently forgotten about and it was as if he never existed!
I found myself walking in the park with my mom a couple of days later. I'm not sure how we got back to the subject of boys (then again, when are we not talking about boys), but I calmly explained to my mom that it wasn't fair that Joe was continuously left out. He was the biggest part of my life to that point and it was ridiculous to pretend that the entire fight or discussion never occurred. While I didn't understand why they reacted the way they did, I explained that I had to accept it and was trying to move on. The situation had not been forgotten, however.
What seemed like out of nowhere, my mom says "well, if you really think that he's the right person for you, then just marry him. I can't stop you - you're almost 30. I don't want to be blamed, down the road, if you don't find anyone else. It'll ruin the family name in the community, but if it's what you think is best, then you should just go ahead and marry him. Parents adapt - they always do. I may not like it and may retreat for awhile, but eventually I will have to adapt, too. It's hard to watch you go through your life, single. Maybe I overreacted a year ago, I'm sorry."
Excuse me? Are you kidding? (you must be) Are you just saying that? (probably) Do you actually mean it? (likely not) Are you saying that because I've already told you that Joe has moved in with his new girlfriend in Australia and is moving on with his life? (well, you're not a malicious person so probably not, it's just coincidence) Now, a year later, you are giving me permission (albeit slightly backhandedly) to marry the guy I've tried to fight for, for the last how many years? I've tried to get over it in the last year and now it's back in front of me as an actual option... or are you just messing with me??
Why is it that women are always left to balance both cultures? I have been born and raised in Canada - this is not how we think - we don't worry about 'family name in society'. We worry about world peace and equality for all. We do our best to balance both worlds and find and live the best values from each. We don't marry to 'fall in love later', but fall in love and then marry. How is it possible for guys to get away with things? If they married outside of the culture, the girl would be blamed for whisking the boy away from the culture. But, if a girl marries outside of her culture, it's all her fault and who could she shame the family like that?
WTF?!?!?! Where's The Fruit!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!" (I don't like to swear, WTF = where's the fruit)
Make up your mind, fate, please, make up your mind.
Mamma's boy...
Just before I moved to Halifax, I received an email from a guy through the 'mothernet'. "Our loving mom's set us up," he wrote. He sounded nice and I had nothing to lose, so emailed him back. I explained that I had just had surgery so couldn't meet up unless I could find a ride and was moving to Halifax in a few days but that I would be back every so often, if he wanted to keep in touch via email to start and we could meet up when I was back. I never heard back.
Eight months later, I received an email from him:
"Hey Anika, how are you? sorry i haven't kept in touch. i heard you went away and figured we get in touch when you came back. have you come back home?
Eight months later, I received an email from him:
"Hey Anika, how are you? sorry i haven't kept in touch. i heard you went away and figured we get in touch when you came back. have you come back home?
i can't see my mom anymore without her asking if i have reached out to you and i thought of you right now because she's coming back from south africa today. i don't mean to sound selfish but atleast i can say i tried to contact you before i see her.
hopefully we can meet up some time soon this summer if you are back in town.
If you are not interested, please be honest with your mom and tell her that.
All the best,
Anika"
hopefully we can meet up some time soon this summer if you are back in town.
hopefully we can get to know eachother better soon.
btw, i requested to be your friend on on facebook just now...
keep in touch,
Sunny"
Completely unimpressed and annoyed by his email, I replied:
"Hi Sunny,
Thanks for your email. Honestly, you don't sound keen on wanting to stay in touch, so now feel quite awkward keeping in touch - I've been back for a few months... and your mom shouldn't be the reason for you emailing...If you are not interested, please be honest with your mom and tell her that.
All the best,
Anika"
Upon the insistence of my friends to give him a chance, we've exchanged a couple of emails. He's keen on getting together for dinner. Me, not so much. If a guy is interested in you, he makes an effort. He doesn't wait 8 months to email you and then tell you that he's writing because he's afraid of facing his mom soon. So is the interest genuine? I'm doubtful.
Again, at the insistence of friends, I will attempt to keep an open mind and will think about dinner...
New beginnings, new date!
After some back and forth and increasingly hanging out with Walter, it was very clear that I had dodged a major bullet. He had managed to hide much of his personality for quite some time while we put plans in place. Once things started to go wrong, his true colours came through and I thank my stars that things didn't work out.
I decided that I could no longer stay in Halifax - I wasn't happy with my job, nor was I keen on staying in the same city as Walter. So, I moved home and started over.
He set up a dinner/movie date a couple of days later and I agreed. Through texts that we had exchanged between the two dates, I was quickly losing interest but tried to stay positive and keep an open mind. It was his choice of conversation at dinner that ended things for me. We were both teachers. He taught high school PE while I taught science. At his school, two female teachers shared a full time post for teaching high school boys PE. He felt that a full time, male teacher would have been better suited to the task. Asking why, he cited the inability of female teachers to go into the locker room if there were any issues as the main argument. Surely he could go in and help if needed, I suggested? I had worked with several female PE teachers who taught male students and this was the first time I'd heard such a concern. Female teachers were more than capable of handling male students, I insisted. He disagreed. He disagreed with me, a female teacher.
Date over. Next!
Friday, May 27, 2011
Who does that?!?!
When Walter didn't show up to Anna's birthday party, I was annoyed. Annoyed the point where I felt that I should just be the bigger person, bring him a slice of cake and tell him to grow up. So, I did.
Unfortunately for me, that turned into a 9 hour conversation, rehashing every detail of the relationship. I was going around in circles and am not sure why I didn't just walk out. What was I thinking? Who rehashes the entire relationship, down to every detail?
Walter and I were back on speaking terms after that, and eventually he wanted to get back together with me. No chance. He wasn't happy with my decision, but that was too bad. I was fine with being friends, but I was in no place to start dating him again. And looking back, I'm so glad that I made that decision. Here are a few snippets from the months that followed...
I made him and his family some Shrikhand (that yoghurt dessert that he likes so much) for Diwali. Diwali weekend happened to be the weekend we were supposed to have our Indian engagement. The dessert was a tradition for me to give to friends, and I knew he loved it. On our way back to Halifax (we were in Toronto for the weekend), he thanked me for the dessert and asked if he could provide some feedback. Um...sure, I guess... "Well, it was good and we enjoyed it. But, for me, I felt as though there were too many pistachios and almonds. Too much on top, for my personal taste", he said. Who says stuff like that?
*************
Anna and Peter had started going to weekly trivia night at a local pub. I joined them and Walter graced us with his presence the first week we went. It wasn't the most amazing trivia, but it was nice to have everyone out together. Our team was tied with another after the second round and in order to break the tie, a game of rock/paper/scissors was to be played. As we decided who was going to play for us, Walter had already gotten out of his seat and was off to represent us. Okay, no problem - it was just rock/paper/scissors, how wrong could it go? Walter and his opponent discussed whether to show their preferred choice on 3 or after 3. This took a few minutes and it was decided that it would be after 3 and not on 3. So off they went. 1..... 2.....Walter shows his sign. "I thought we were going after 3," his opponent argued. "Oh ya...okay, ya, after 3," Walter replies. So they go again. 1...... 2...... Walter shows his sign. "Oh, sorry - right, after 3," Walter apologizes. Third time was lucky, thank goodness. Walter not only got it right and showed his sign after 3, but also won. Phew. As we giggled at our table, he came back and issued evil glares to anyone who dared to make fun of him or smile at the situation. *roll eyes*
*****************
Every opportunity he had, Walter provided me with 'feedback'. Whether it was too many nuts on the yoghurt dessert dish, too much garlic in another dish, or the preference of jeans over leggings, etc, Walter always had feedback to provide. He never saw any fault in it and maybe I should have just grown thicker skin. It's how he was raised - continuous corrections. It was in his blood. He was in the military - the lifestyle suited him. I never figured out if he actually believed it, but he came across as being superior to everyone else. There was the military protocol, and then everything else. It was funny.
**************
After having walked the streets of Paris for the day, we stopped for a bite to eat. Walter asked if I'd like some hand sanitizer. "I'd love some," I said, holding my hand out. He opened the bottle and meticulously placed a drop of hand sanitizer on each of my fingers and thumb, before placing a slightly bigger drop on the palm of my hand. I couldn't help laughing. He didn't take kindly to the laughing. "Why would you use hand sanitizer like that and not just put a blob in the middle of your palm and spread it around," I asked, thinking in my head that that's what most normal people do.
"Because it's more efficient this way," he said.
"And how is this more efficient?" I asked.
"This way you get the sanitizer on the places you use the most when eating - the tips of your fingers," he continued.
"That's not efficiency - you're a lawyer, surely you can come up with a better argument," I joked.
He was not happy and barely spoke to me for the next hour.
****************
We were walking in the park one day, he was in uniform. One of the park 'guards' saluted him. I asked about the protocol behind this and he explained that anyone of a lower rank had to salute someone of a higher rank. "But," I asked, "what if the person doesn't realize that you are of higher rank or see?"
"I would quietly point it out that I was higher rank," he replied.
"But, what if you're out in a public park such as this one? I mean, I guess it's fine to point it out for military things, but in a public park like this when you're just walking around?" I continued.
"It's protocol. I would point it out," he said.
Chill out, dude!
*****************
I think the funniest story was one that came to me about a month after I left Halifax. Walter plays dodgeball. The team has t-shirts, just like every other community league team out there. Rumour has it, that Walter took his t-shirt to the tailor to get hemmed because it was too long! Apparently Walter was endlessly razzed by his team...I have heard a lot of stories, but this last one definitely takes the cake for "Who Does That?????"
Case Closed. End of story. Good riddance!
Unfortunately for me, that turned into a 9 hour conversation, rehashing every detail of the relationship. I was going around in circles and am not sure why I didn't just walk out. What was I thinking? Who rehashes the entire relationship, down to every detail?
Walter and I were back on speaking terms after that, and eventually he wanted to get back together with me. No chance. He wasn't happy with my decision, but that was too bad. I was fine with being friends, but I was in no place to start dating him again. And looking back, I'm so glad that I made that decision. Here are a few snippets from the months that followed...
I made him and his family some Shrikhand (that yoghurt dessert that he likes so much) for Diwali. Diwali weekend happened to be the weekend we were supposed to have our Indian engagement. The dessert was a tradition for me to give to friends, and I knew he loved it. On our way back to Halifax (we were in Toronto for the weekend), he thanked me for the dessert and asked if he could provide some feedback. Um...sure, I guess... "Well, it was good and we enjoyed it. But, for me, I felt as though there were too many pistachios and almonds. Too much on top, for my personal taste", he said. Who says stuff like that?
*************
Anna and Peter had started going to weekly trivia night at a local pub. I joined them and Walter graced us with his presence the first week we went. It wasn't the most amazing trivia, but it was nice to have everyone out together. Our team was tied with another after the second round and in order to break the tie, a game of rock/paper/scissors was to be played. As we decided who was going to play for us, Walter had already gotten out of his seat and was off to represent us. Okay, no problem - it was just rock/paper/scissors, how wrong could it go? Walter and his opponent discussed whether to show their preferred choice on 3 or after 3. This took a few minutes and it was decided that it would be after 3 and not on 3. So off they went. 1..... 2.....Walter shows his sign. "I thought we were going after 3," his opponent argued. "Oh ya...okay, ya, after 3," Walter replies. So they go again. 1...... 2...... Walter shows his sign. "Oh, sorry - right, after 3," Walter apologizes. Third time was lucky, thank goodness. Walter not only got it right and showed his sign after 3, but also won. Phew. As we giggled at our table, he came back and issued evil glares to anyone who dared to make fun of him or smile at the situation. *roll eyes*
*****************
Every opportunity he had, Walter provided me with 'feedback'. Whether it was too many nuts on the yoghurt dessert dish, too much garlic in another dish, or the preference of jeans over leggings, etc, Walter always had feedback to provide. He never saw any fault in it and maybe I should have just grown thicker skin. It's how he was raised - continuous corrections. It was in his blood. He was in the military - the lifestyle suited him. I never figured out if he actually believed it, but he came across as being superior to everyone else. There was the military protocol, and then everything else. It was funny.
**************
After having walked the streets of Paris for the day, we stopped for a bite to eat. Walter asked if I'd like some hand sanitizer. "I'd love some," I said, holding my hand out. He opened the bottle and meticulously placed a drop of hand sanitizer on each of my fingers and thumb, before placing a slightly bigger drop on the palm of my hand. I couldn't help laughing. He didn't take kindly to the laughing. "Why would you use hand sanitizer like that and not just put a blob in the middle of your palm and spread it around," I asked, thinking in my head that that's what most normal people do.
"Because it's more efficient this way," he said.
"And how is this more efficient?" I asked.
"This way you get the sanitizer on the places you use the most when eating - the tips of your fingers," he continued.
"That's not efficiency - you're a lawyer, surely you can come up with a better argument," I joked.
He was not happy and barely spoke to me for the next hour.
****************
We were walking in the park one day, he was in uniform. One of the park 'guards' saluted him. I asked about the protocol behind this and he explained that anyone of a lower rank had to salute someone of a higher rank. "But," I asked, "what if the person doesn't realize that you are of higher rank or see?"
"I would quietly point it out that I was higher rank," he replied.
"But, what if you're out in a public park such as this one? I mean, I guess it's fine to point it out for military things, but in a public park like this when you're just walking around?" I continued.
"It's protocol. I would point it out," he said.
Chill out, dude!
*****************
I think the funniest story was one that came to me about a month after I left Halifax. Walter plays dodgeball. The team has t-shirts, just like every other community league team out there. Rumour has it, that Walter took his t-shirt to the tailor to get hemmed because it was too long! Apparently Walter was endlessly razzed by his team...I have heard a lot of stories, but this last one definitely takes the cake for "Who Does That?????"
Case Closed. End of story. Good riddance!
The Bed.
My things were packed and sent to Halifax while I was in Costa Rica. Walter had let the movers into my new apartment and had assembled my bed for me. It was really sweet of him to do that.
About two weeks after my move to Halifax, part of my bed collapsed. I did my best to repair the corner that didn't want to hold the mattress up and then just slept on the other side. Until it collapsed while I was sitting in bed, watching TV with a hot cup of tea. With hot tea all over myself, I cursed the bed and the person who had put it together. It was a standard frame that worked well for years - the only reason it was falling apart now was faulty assembly.
So, one fine Saturday afternoon, I pulled the mattress off and examined the bed frame. At this point, Joe and I were still talking every once in awhile and he was my first stop - the most handy person I knew on Skype would could look at the frame and help me understand what was wrong with it.
"It's been put together backwards," he said.
"How do I fix it?"
"Take it apart, flip the thing around and put it back together again - it's completely wrong and won't hold any weight the way it is - I'm surprised it's not in worse shape," he continued.
After half an hour of live Skype help from Joe, he had to go. The time difference was too great and it was way past his bedtime. Following his instructions, I disassembled the frame, flipped everything around and went to put it together. I needed more tools than I had. I called Walter... I don't know why.
With his sweatshirt tucked into his jeans and sporting a barely-bent ball cap (the combination was priceless), he showed up with his toolbox. Because he'd put it together the wrong way, he ended up having to bend it out of shape in order to make it fit together. Therefore, it was nearly impossible to get it back together, the right way. I explained this to him and was wondering if he had any solutions because I didn't know how to fit it back together. He sat cross-legged on my floor and stared at the frame. He may have been trying to send it yoda-like messages to bend back to it's original form, but it wasn't working. After five minutes of silence, I told him that it was fine - he could go home and I would figure it out. I was annoyed and no longer wanted him to waste my time. Another five minutes of staring at my frame went by. Again, I reiterated that he could go; it was okay, I would figure it out and find a solution. Yet another five minutes of staring at my frame! 'How many more times can I ask you politely to leave?!' I thought.
"Walter, just go. Please. I'm not in a good mood, my bed is broken and I don't know how to fix it. This isn't helping. Please go home and I will figure something out. Worst case, I have my awesome papasan chair to sleep on, which is uber comfy, so I don't mind," I said.
He left. (He later messaged me to say that I could sleep in his bed, if I preferred it over the chair - he felt bad about the bed. Um...no chance. Nice try.)
Completely frustrated, I called Steve on Skype. I didn't know if Steve could help but I knew that he was certainly more 'handy' than Walter was.
Steve, bless him, looked at the bed on Skype, drew a sketch of it and then proceeded to give me step-by-step directions how I could assemble it. It wouldn't be perfect and it might be at a very slight slant, but I could definitely put it back together and it would survive. He had already been running late to meet friends when I had called and neglected to mention it. Instead, he calmly helped my frustrated self put together the bed for the next hour before excusing himself. He then checked on me, and the bed, everyday that week to ensure that his instructions had worked and I had bed to sleep in. It was really sweet.
About two weeks after my move to Halifax, part of my bed collapsed. I did my best to repair the corner that didn't want to hold the mattress up and then just slept on the other side. Until it collapsed while I was sitting in bed, watching TV with a hot cup of tea. With hot tea all over myself, I cursed the bed and the person who had put it together. It was a standard frame that worked well for years - the only reason it was falling apart now was faulty assembly.
So, one fine Saturday afternoon, I pulled the mattress off and examined the bed frame. At this point, Joe and I were still talking every once in awhile and he was my first stop - the most handy person I knew on Skype would could look at the frame and help me understand what was wrong with it.
"It's been put together backwards," he said.
"How do I fix it?"
"Take it apart, flip the thing around and put it back together again - it's completely wrong and won't hold any weight the way it is - I'm surprised it's not in worse shape," he continued.
After half an hour of live Skype help from Joe, he had to go. The time difference was too great and it was way past his bedtime. Following his instructions, I disassembled the frame, flipped everything around and went to put it together. I needed more tools than I had. I called Walter... I don't know why.
With his sweatshirt tucked into his jeans and sporting a barely-bent ball cap (the combination was priceless), he showed up with his toolbox. Because he'd put it together the wrong way, he ended up having to bend it out of shape in order to make it fit together. Therefore, it was nearly impossible to get it back together, the right way. I explained this to him and was wondering if he had any solutions because I didn't know how to fit it back together. He sat cross-legged on my floor and stared at the frame. He may have been trying to send it yoda-like messages to bend back to it's original form, but it wasn't working. After five minutes of silence, I told him that it was fine - he could go home and I would figure it out. I was annoyed and no longer wanted him to waste my time. Another five minutes of staring at my frame went by. Again, I reiterated that he could go; it was okay, I would figure it out and find a solution. Yet another five minutes of staring at my frame! 'How many more times can I ask you politely to leave?!' I thought.
"Walter, just go. Please. I'm not in a good mood, my bed is broken and I don't know how to fix it. This isn't helping. Please go home and I will figure something out. Worst case, I have my awesome papasan chair to sleep on, which is uber comfy, so I don't mind," I said.
He left. (He later messaged me to say that I could sleep in his bed, if I preferred it over the chair - he felt bad about the bed. Um...no chance. Nice try.)
Completely frustrated, I called Steve on Skype. I didn't know if Steve could help but I knew that he was certainly more 'handy' than Walter was.
Steve, bless him, looked at the bed on Skype, drew a sketch of it and then proceeded to give me step-by-step directions how I could assemble it. It wouldn't be perfect and it might be at a very slight slant, but I could definitely put it back together and it would survive. He had already been running late to meet friends when I had called and neglected to mention it. Instead, he calmly helped my frustrated self put together the bed for the next hour before excusing himself. He then checked on me, and the bed, everyday that week to ensure that his instructions had worked and I had bed to sleep in. It was really sweet.
Childish behaviour
A week after I moved to Halifax, there was an event at the temple. I wanted to go and Anna and Peter were taking me. Anna was fabulously throwing me a 'Welcome to Halifax' party so that I could meet her friends and build a support network of sorts while I was there. She was such a sweetheart!
About a month had passed and I had yet to speak to Walter. He had deleted me off Skype after I brushed him off at the temple. I'm not sure what he expected me to do - after everything, why would I want to speak to him? He then stopped attending any function which would have any remote chance that I may also be there. I didn't mind - if he wanted to act like a child, then so be it. I had no issues with him being around and I would be cordial, but that's as far as it went.
The last straw was Anna's surprise birthday party. Walter chose the most inopportune time to speak with Peter about not wanting to come to the party, and then became upset when Peter couldn't give him his full attention. He barely spoke to Peter after that. Seriously? Are we five years old now? Who does that? Man up, Walter. Man. Up.
About a month had passed and I had yet to speak to Walter. He had deleted me off Skype after I brushed him off at the temple. I'm not sure what he expected me to do - after everything, why would I want to speak to him? He then stopped attending any function which would have any remote chance that I may also be there. I didn't mind - if he wanted to act like a child, then so be it. I had no issues with him being around and I would be cordial, but that's as far as it went.
The last straw was Anna's surprise birthday party. Walter chose the most inopportune time to speak with Peter about not wanting to come to the party, and then became upset when Peter couldn't give him his full attention. He barely spoke to Peter after that. Seriously? Are we five years old now? Who does that? Man up, Walter. Man. Up.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
The (brief) Return of Joe
Through the chaos of surgery, it was Joe's birthday. We had promised each other that no matter where we were, birthdays were the one occasion that we'd exchange some sort of greeting.
I emailed...then called. He wasn't expecting the call. I caught him off-guard. It had been nearly 6 months since we had last spoken when I told him that I needed time to figure things out and that I couldn't go through with the fight. It had been six months since I had heard his voice.
We talked. We caught up. I learned that he had just started dating someone in Australia and it was long distance for now. He was excited to hear from me. He did what he always does when I throw him off course - he drank. We talked, he drank, and then he called me back. He missed me and was so happy to hear from me, but he didn't know what to do with that. I told him about Walter. He listened. Joe was kind - listened to everything, was nice about Walter (though I knew he secretly was happy that things didn't work out because he knew I deserved better). He told me he loved me.
For the few months that followed, the drama with Joe and I continued. We skyped occasionally and found ourselves talking about the past and reminiscing a lot. It made us happy. We told each other how much we missed everything and how crazy it was for the two of us to still be in love, despite 4.5 years of long distance and the odds being against us.
But, it had to stop. It wasn't fair to his girlfriend. She was sweet, I'm sure, and she didn't deserve this. It wasn't fair. And so I told him. Although it killed me to cut him out for awhile, it was the right thing to do. He knew it. I knew it.
I had conveniently planned a trip away while Joe was home for the holidays. His sister was getting married and his girlfriend was coming with him. I didn't want to be a part of that. I didn't want to be anywhere near that. So, I left town. I missed him. I hadn't seen him in a year and it wasn't likely that he'd be back again anytime soon.
We met up for half an hour on New Year's Eve. It was like old times. I was waiting at the counter of a store when he arrived. I felt bad that I was in the middle of getting something fixed when he arrived and apologized. "No worries, I recognized you by your very nice bum," he said, not skipping a beat. It was like old times.
We caught up. He snuck in a few digs at me and I'm sure it made him feel better. "I'm looking forward to a 'normal' relationship," he said. "She doesn't want me to change," he added, referring to the fact that we'd been long distance for four years and that I had asked him to quit smoking and preferred not to have meat in the house. 'Fine,' I thought, 'you can have that'. You are doing what you need to do to move on. History has repeated itself yet again - be a jerk now to make yourself feel better. It won't help. He kissed me goodbye and went back to Singapore to pack his things up and move to Australia.
I spent the rest of the day balling. We barely spoke after that. One or two emails exchanged - none of which he replied to with any care. I couldn't blame him. He had moved in with his girlfriend, who by all accounts, was exactly like him. While they were long distance, she had a rule that they had to Skype for at least an hour a day. Who knew what kind of rules she had for when they were together. Maybe he needed that structure, who knows.
And, a few months of nothing later, he emailed me for my birthday. I was surprised but glad he remembered. I waited to reply and eventually texted. Our quippy text banter brought a smile to my face. I missed him...I needed to move on.
I emailed...then called. He wasn't expecting the call. I caught him off-guard. It had been nearly 6 months since we had last spoken when I told him that I needed time to figure things out and that I couldn't go through with the fight. It had been six months since I had heard his voice.
We talked. We caught up. I learned that he had just started dating someone in Australia and it was long distance for now. He was excited to hear from me. He did what he always does when I throw him off course - he drank. We talked, he drank, and then he called me back. He missed me and was so happy to hear from me, but he didn't know what to do with that. I told him about Walter. He listened. Joe was kind - listened to everything, was nice about Walter (though I knew he secretly was happy that things didn't work out because he knew I deserved better). He told me he loved me.
For the few months that followed, the drama with Joe and I continued. We skyped occasionally and found ourselves talking about the past and reminiscing a lot. It made us happy. We told each other how much we missed everything and how crazy it was for the two of us to still be in love, despite 4.5 years of long distance and the odds being against us.
But, it had to stop. It wasn't fair to his girlfriend. She was sweet, I'm sure, and she didn't deserve this. It wasn't fair. And so I told him. Although it killed me to cut him out for awhile, it was the right thing to do. He knew it. I knew it.
I had conveniently planned a trip away while Joe was home for the holidays. His sister was getting married and his girlfriend was coming with him. I didn't want to be a part of that. I didn't want to be anywhere near that. So, I left town. I missed him. I hadn't seen him in a year and it wasn't likely that he'd be back again anytime soon.
We met up for half an hour on New Year's Eve. It was like old times. I was waiting at the counter of a store when he arrived. I felt bad that I was in the middle of getting something fixed when he arrived and apologized. "No worries, I recognized you by your very nice bum," he said, not skipping a beat. It was like old times.
We caught up. He snuck in a few digs at me and I'm sure it made him feel better. "I'm looking forward to a 'normal' relationship," he said. "She doesn't want me to change," he added, referring to the fact that we'd been long distance for four years and that I had asked him to quit smoking and preferred not to have meat in the house. 'Fine,' I thought, 'you can have that'. You are doing what you need to do to move on. History has repeated itself yet again - be a jerk now to make yourself feel better. It won't help. He kissed me goodbye and went back to Singapore to pack his things up and move to Australia.
I spent the rest of the day balling. We barely spoke after that. One or two emails exchanged - none of which he replied to with any care. I couldn't blame him. He had moved in with his girlfriend, who by all accounts, was exactly like him. While they were long distance, she had a rule that they had to Skype for at least an hour a day. Who knew what kind of rules she had for when they were together. Maybe he needed that structure, who knows.
And, a few months of nothing later, he emailed me for my birthday. I was surprised but glad he remembered. I waited to reply and eventually texted. Our quippy text banter brought a smile to my face. I missed him...I needed to move on.
Flashback - The Croissant Sprayer
I was living in Cambridge at the time and was browsing shaadi.com. This guy also lived in Cambridge and was interested in meeting for coffee. Sounds fine to me - I had nothing to lose.
We had exchanged a few emails beforehand - he made himself sound very important with limited time to meet. No worries, we could work around his schedule as I was a student and my schedule allowed for more flexibility.
"How will we recognize each other?" he asked.
"Well, I will be there anyway, working on my paper. My computer has a green cover that is fairly distinctive, so I'm sure you'll spot me," I said.
"So you'd be the Hulkette, then," he said.
"Um. Sure."
He had a classic case of 'talk a lot'. He dominated the conversation, and normally I wouldn't mind. But, this guy had decided that he wanted a croissant with his coffee. Talking + eating croissant = messy conversation. I had his croissant bits all over me. Eww.
He asked me point-blank at the end of the conversation if I wanted to see him again. I tried to get out of answering such an awkward question, but he persisted. So, I was honest. "No, I'm really sorry, I don't see this going any further, I'm sorry," I said sheepishly.
He got up and walked out, leaving his coffee on the table, surrounded by flakes of croissant which had come flying out of his mouth over the previous half hour!
We had exchanged a few emails beforehand - he made himself sound very important with limited time to meet. No worries, we could work around his schedule as I was a student and my schedule allowed for more flexibility.
"How will we recognize each other?" he asked.
"Well, I will be there anyway, working on my paper. My computer has a green cover that is fairly distinctive, so I'm sure you'll spot me," I said.
"So you'd be the Hulkette, then," he said.
"Um. Sure."
He had a classic case of 'talk a lot'. He dominated the conversation, and normally I wouldn't mind. But, this guy had decided that he wanted a croissant with his coffee. Talking + eating croissant = messy conversation. I had his croissant bits all over me. Eww.
He asked me point-blank at the end of the conversation if I wanted to see him again. I tried to get out of answering such an awkward question, but he persisted. So, I was honest. "No, I'm really sorry, I don't see this going any further, I'm sorry," I said sheepishly.
He got up and walked out, leaving his coffee on the table, surrounded by flakes of croissant which had come flying out of his mouth over the previous half hour!
The return of the bio-data
It had been awhile since the word bio-data had been uttered in my house. But, the day after Walter and I broke up was not soon enough for my parents to bring up the subject again. I could do nothing but laugh - my parents didn't know what 'taking time' meant. It was best to just move on and forget about the bad things. Bury it quickly and move on. I indulged them because I was couch-ridden and had nowhere to hide. My leg was healing from surgery and it was too painful to move.
The regular searches were made on shaadi.com and eHarmony. I hadn't had much luck with either, but it passed the time to read people's profiles. Nothing really interested me - I wasn't in the mood to be looking, but my day went faster because of it.
I revamped my biodata and updated my picture and my parents went to work. I watched movies and did my best to get over Walter and move on.
About two weeks before I moved to Halifax, I met Steve. He lived in Calgary and my family knew his. He seemed like a nice guy and we caught up on Skype for a few hours and learned more about each other. He was honest, up front and different from most guys I'd met. And odd start, but a welcome change. We kept in touch and he wanted to meet up, but I wasn't interested in him coming to Halifax. I wasn't ready to date and needed time. So we just kept in touch and would see where things went. He was great for frank discussions about any topic (some that were surprisingly open and involved way too much information).
Let's see where the new bio-data takes me...
The regular searches were made on shaadi.com and eHarmony. I hadn't had much luck with either, but it passed the time to read people's profiles. Nothing really interested me - I wasn't in the mood to be looking, but my day went faster because of it.
I revamped my biodata and updated my picture and my parents went to work. I watched movies and did my best to get over Walter and move on.
About two weeks before I moved to Halifax, I met Steve. He lived in Calgary and my family knew his. He seemed like a nice guy and we caught up on Skype for a few hours and learned more about each other. He was honest, up front and different from most guys I'd met. And odd start, but a welcome change. We kept in touch and he wanted to meet up, but I wasn't interested in him coming to Halifax. I wasn't ready to date and needed time. So we just kept in touch and would see where things went. He was great for frank discussions about any topic (some that were surprisingly open and involved way too much information).
Let's see where the new bio-data takes me...
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Aftermath
I had already signed a one-year lease for my apartment (before I went to Costa Rica). My life's possessions were already in my apartment (albeit, in boxes). I had a job (albeit part-time) all lined up and the principal had been kind to let me start 6 weeks into the year, as soon as my cast had come off. So, I was set to move to Halifax. All I had to do was get through the next 6 weeks on the couch and go tackle my new life in a city I wasn't too keen on being in. Not to worry, it was the higher road. 'I'm strong, I can handle this', I thought to myself. I wasn't going to chicken out of the move just because Walter and I had broken up!
About ten days after we broke up, a friend of Walter's, was also having foot surgery. Anna's Facebook status indicated that she was worried about the process and nobody had responded to her, yet. I privately messaged her saying that I understood if she didn't respond because of what happened between Walter and I, but that she had nothing to worry about. I walked her through the process, hoping to put her mind at ease. Anna was a sweetheart - we'd met when I went to see Walter in Halifax; Anna and her husband, Peter, had made sure that I felt at home and had a good time - we'd met up a few times throughout the weekend and they'd stayed in touch.
Anna replied to my message and was shocked to hear that Walter and I were no longer together. Peter had spoken to Walter a few times in the last ten days and not once had Walter mentioned anything! Walter had sought advice from Anna about the ring, so she knew that things were going well and couldn't believe that suddenly everything had ended. She was thankful for the information about her surgery and assured me that we would stay friends despite the chaos - after all, I would need friendly faces in Halifax once I moved! :) It was sweet of her.
As Anna and I were both couch-ridden post-surgery, we kept each other company over Skype and became closer friends. She was a smart, beautiful and amazingly friendly person and it was nice to chat while we both were immobile.
I wasn't comfortable with Walter still having my apartment keys and mail. Peter and Walter played on the same dodgeball team, so asked Peter to pick up my things from Walter one night after their game. I felt better knowing that it was in the hands of someone I trusted. Walter eventually told Peter and Anna (and the rest of his friends) that we had broken up but his version of the story was that 'it just didn't work out'. Anything else he added had clearly implied that it was my idea and fault that we were no longer together. I wasn't concerned about what his friends thought, but Anna had known the truth (it's what happens when you have eight hours a day on skype with someone and neither of you can really do anything else). Peter and Anna were both livid. Peter had moved to be with Anna in Halifax after only a few months of knowing her. Even before they knew the full story, Peter and Anna were upset with Walter. They knew how much sacrifice a move involved and to break things off simply because they 'just didn't work out' was unacceptable to either of them.
I was glad Walter was out of my life. I was touched that Anna and Peter had declared themselves co-captains of team Anika - something I never expected and was incredibly appreciated!
Walter and I had exchanged a couple of brief emails, which just upset me even more. I was disappointed that he left me in such an awkward position - I still had to move to Halifax. I had turned down some amazing opportunities in the UK to move there...for a part time job. He wrote back and understood that I was in an awkward position and apologized but asked that I see his side of things, too. He was also in an awkward position because he "bought a ring out a sense of commitment and love for [me], but which no longer had a purpose". He was comparing a cross-country move, uprooting my life and giving up amazing job prospects to the purchase of a ring? Seriously? Who does that?!
To try and move on, I looked at our relationship and found all the things I had done wrong - I could have been more patient and understanding. I could have communicated things differently. I could have used less emails and skyped more in order to prevent miscommunications. All sorts of things, and for those reasons, I emailed Walter and apologized to him for the situation we were currently in. It's the last thing either of us wanted, and hopefully he would realize that. I needed to let go and this was my way of doing it. He didn't respond until two weeks later when he accepted the apology and forgave me 'entirely' (no apology on his part). He knew that I had not meant to hurt him. (roll eyes)
One aftermath email that I have yet to stop laughing at, really sums up his personality and why things never would have worked out. A big storm had hit Halifax and before he had given my keys to Peter, he had checked out my apartment to make sure it was okay (which I thought was nice of him). The email that I received after his inspection:
"I went to your apartment this evening and am happy to report that I observed no damage. I decided to put the items (except the charcoal briquets which are still wrapped in paper and inside) back on the balcony. While there is a risk of storm-related damage from future storms, I think that the risk is lessened by the fact that the storms seem to approach Halifax from the southwest whereas your balcony faces northeast. I estimate that this means that any items on your balcony should be sheltered from high winds. Also, the cinder blocks and table are fairly heavy and I spread them out over the green carpet so everything should stay put. I also decided to put the items back on the balcony because the table may be growing some kind of mould and I was concerned about those organisms getting into your carpet and walls and thereby affecting your indoor air quality. The cinder blocks and table had been sitting on packing paper so I threw that paper in the garbage to avoid any mould contamination."
My response: "What if the direction of the winds change...like in Mary Poppins?"
I moved to Halifax with the help of Anna and Peter, who I had become closer friends with. They had moved everything in my apartment to the side so that we had room to unpack. They had stocked my fridge with juice and veggies, toilet paper in the bathroom and some lovely flowers to cheer me up. It was sweet and I was incredibly thankful for their warmth and friendship.
About ten days after we broke up, a friend of Walter's, was also having foot surgery. Anna's Facebook status indicated that she was worried about the process and nobody had responded to her, yet. I privately messaged her saying that I understood if she didn't respond because of what happened between Walter and I, but that she had nothing to worry about. I walked her through the process, hoping to put her mind at ease. Anna was a sweetheart - we'd met when I went to see Walter in Halifax; Anna and her husband, Peter, had made sure that I felt at home and had a good time - we'd met up a few times throughout the weekend and they'd stayed in touch.
Anna replied to my message and was shocked to hear that Walter and I were no longer together. Peter had spoken to Walter a few times in the last ten days and not once had Walter mentioned anything! Walter had sought advice from Anna about the ring, so she knew that things were going well and couldn't believe that suddenly everything had ended. She was thankful for the information about her surgery and assured me that we would stay friends despite the chaos - after all, I would need friendly faces in Halifax once I moved! :) It was sweet of her.
As Anna and I were both couch-ridden post-surgery, we kept each other company over Skype and became closer friends. She was a smart, beautiful and amazingly friendly person and it was nice to chat while we both were immobile.
I wasn't comfortable with Walter still having my apartment keys and mail. Peter and Walter played on the same dodgeball team, so asked Peter to pick up my things from Walter one night after their game. I felt better knowing that it was in the hands of someone I trusted. Walter eventually told Peter and Anna (and the rest of his friends) that we had broken up but his version of the story was that 'it just didn't work out'. Anything else he added had clearly implied that it was my idea and fault that we were no longer together. I wasn't concerned about what his friends thought, but Anna had known the truth (it's what happens when you have eight hours a day on skype with someone and neither of you can really do anything else). Peter and Anna were both livid. Peter had moved to be with Anna in Halifax after only a few months of knowing her. Even before they knew the full story, Peter and Anna were upset with Walter. They knew how much sacrifice a move involved and to break things off simply because they 'just didn't work out' was unacceptable to either of them.
I was glad Walter was out of my life. I was touched that Anna and Peter had declared themselves co-captains of team Anika - something I never expected and was incredibly appreciated!
Walter and I had exchanged a couple of brief emails, which just upset me even more. I was disappointed that he left me in such an awkward position - I still had to move to Halifax. I had turned down some amazing opportunities in the UK to move there...for a part time job. He wrote back and understood that I was in an awkward position and apologized but asked that I see his side of things, too. He was also in an awkward position because he "bought a ring out a sense of commitment and love for [me], but which no longer had a purpose". He was comparing a cross-country move, uprooting my life and giving up amazing job prospects to the purchase of a ring? Seriously? Who does that?!
To try and move on, I looked at our relationship and found all the things I had done wrong - I could have been more patient and understanding. I could have communicated things differently. I could have used less emails and skyped more in order to prevent miscommunications. All sorts of things, and for those reasons, I emailed Walter and apologized to him for the situation we were currently in. It's the last thing either of us wanted, and hopefully he would realize that. I needed to let go and this was my way of doing it. He didn't respond until two weeks later when he accepted the apology and forgave me 'entirely' (no apology on his part). He knew that I had not meant to hurt him. (roll eyes)
One aftermath email that I have yet to stop laughing at, really sums up his personality and why things never would have worked out. A big storm had hit Halifax and before he had given my keys to Peter, he had checked out my apartment to make sure it was okay (which I thought was nice of him). The email that I received after his inspection:
"I went to your apartment this evening and am happy to report that I observed no damage. I decided to put the items (except the charcoal briquets which are still wrapped in paper and inside) back on the balcony. While there is a risk of storm-related damage from future storms, I think that the risk is lessened by the fact that the storms seem to approach Halifax from the southwest whereas your balcony faces northeast. I estimate that this means that any items on your balcony should be sheltered from high winds. Also, the cinder blocks and table are fairly heavy and I spread them out over the green carpet so everything should stay put. I also decided to put the items back on the balcony because the table may be growing some kind of mould and I was concerned about those organisms getting into your carpet and walls and thereby affecting your indoor air quality. The cinder blocks and table had been sitting on packing paper so I threw that paper in the garbage to avoid any mould contamination."
My response: "What if the direction of the winds change...like in Mary Poppins?"
I moved to Halifax with the help of Anna and Peter, who I had become closer friends with. They had moved everything in my apartment to the side so that we had room to unpack. They had stocked my fridge with juice and veggies, toilet paper in the bathroom and some lovely flowers to cheer me up. It was sweet and I was incredibly thankful for their warmth and friendship.
Seeking Permission
I texted Walter several times the night before my surgery. I needed his comfort. He never replied.
He called the next morning and apologized - he had been busy talking to his parents and brother and couldn't reply to my texts. He wished me luck for my surgery and I went off to the hospital.
I texted him from the hospital. My surgery was delayed by a couple of hours, so I let Walter know. I had sent about 5-6 texts with no answer. He must busy, I thought.
As I came out of surgery and was waiting in the recovery room with my mom, my phone rang. It was Walter! Finally! I was excited to hear his voice, but something wasn't right. He sounded distant and tired.
"Are you okay?", I asked.
"Oh ya, we can talk about it later," he replied.
Well, the can had been opened and so we might as well talk about it. The benefit of a local anaesthetic is that you're not all woozy post-surgery. I felt fine and my leg was still numb. No better time to have a chat.
He explained that he had concerns - he realized that after talking to his parents and brother, that he was concerned about the fact that I had neural therapy in Costa Rica. He wasn't sure how to react before when I had told him (while I was visiting him), but that after thinking about it, he was really concerned. He was concerned because I hadn't spoken to him first. I hadn't talked it over with him before having the treatment. He was concerned that if something had gone wrong, I would have no legal recourse in Costa Rica. He was concerned because we clearly were having communication issues (referring to the Marks Work Warehouse/Lulu jokes, and the Swiffer/vacuum & mail keys discussions) and wasn't sure how to rectify the situation.
I thanked him for sharing his views and concerns and assured him that we would talk soon. The nurses were calling me and I needed to go.
Since the freezing was wearing off, I was allowed to go home and did just that. The pain was setting in. I was thinking about what Walter had said. He was concerned that I hadn't spoken to him first about Costa Rica? Really? I was too tired to think and took a nap.
I awoke at 11pm at night and texted Walter to let him know I was heading back to the hospital. I had lost all feeling in my foot and since the doctor's had failed to tell me I had a delayed block, I was a bit concerned. What if I had permanently lost feeling in my foot? My mom and I spent the night in the hospital waiting to be seen. Never fun. We slept the entire next day after which I emailed Walter back as he was not answering my calls or texts. Something was up. He had completely disappeared. I recollected the conversation from the previous day as best I could and replied to each of his concerns. I explained that sometimes when he spoke, he came across as a 'know-it-all', which meant that I was defensive. I shouldn't have reacted that way and apologized. But, we both had faults and as I tried to work through them, I continued to explain that we clearly just needed to work through them. As for the 'permission seeking' for neural therapy, I disagreed. I explained that the clinic was impeccable, that legal recourse was not something we had in Canada let alone in Costa Rica. I explained that I knew people who had received neural therapy and their conditions had improved and that nobody I knew or that research knew had side effects from the treatment considering it was all natural. I explained that this doctor had been doing this for 30 years and he knew what he was doing, and that people from all over the world came to see him. I wasn't sure what else I could write. I was happy for us to talk over the phone or on skype.
I didn't hear back. I texted Walter the next day and heard nothing. I texted again saying that I really just needed to hear his voice. We had promised each other that we wouldn't run from anything and that we'd face any issues together. He finally replied. He said that he wasn't running, rather had some concerns. (Clearly my email didn't work at solving anything). I was happy to talk about them and he wanted to wait until his parents had left. Fair enough.
As we drove up to the cottage a couple of days later, I looked up at the night sky through the window and wondered what had happened. Only a week ago, I was talking about wedding venues and rings. I visited my future fiance and although it wasn't the best visit, we were going to talk things through. But, he disappeared instead. I had barely heard from him in the last 5 days and I wasn't sure what I could do to bring him back. When we reached the cottage, two hours later, I had an email waiting for me. He was 'writing with a heavy heart'. He didn't know how we could move forward with all of these differences. He wasn't sure if we could resolve our issues because I wasn't communicating openly (hadn't asked for permission for neural therapy). He felt that he had a right over my body (because we were talking about eventually getting married), just as I had a right over his. I disagreed. He felt as though there was a growing distance between us and he didn't see it coming.
I was shocked. In lots of pain. And in complete shock. I didn't sleep. I didn't want to reply via email, rather wanted to talk. He wasn't willing to fly to down to see me and I couldn't because of the surgery, so we were stuck with Skype. And that's what we did. We talked for three hours, trying to work through things. I sent him information on neural therapy to assure him it was perfectly safe. I told him that if he had made a decision as I did, I would have supported him no matter what. I would have trusted him. That was the difference. And I was working through it because I had made a promise to him that I would. We both had a lot to think about and arranged to talk on skype the next evening. He never showed. I received a lame message four hours after our meeting time to say that he got caught up in something. I had propped myself up on a couch, in complete pain, so that we could speak. And I, stupidly, waited for four hours on that couch for him to show up on Skype.
I deserved better. A LOT better. And I told him that. That was it. We tried to reconcile things once more after that, but he made it clear that his "heart wasn't into it anymore". One day madly in love with me and a week later, his heart wasn't into it. I did deserve better. SO MUCH BETTER. And, I was going to find it.
Time to revamp that bio-data of mine!
He called the next morning and apologized - he had been busy talking to his parents and brother and couldn't reply to my texts. He wished me luck for my surgery and I went off to the hospital.
I texted him from the hospital. My surgery was delayed by a couple of hours, so I let Walter know. I had sent about 5-6 texts with no answer. He must busy, I thought.
As I came out of surgery and was waiting in the recovery room with my mom, my phone rang. It was Walter! Finally! I was excited to hear his voice, but something wasn't right. He sounded distant and tired.
"Are you okay?", I asked.
"Oh ya, we can talk about it later," he replied.
Well, the can had been opened and so we might as well talk about it. The benefit of a local anaesthetic is that you're not all woozy post-surgery. I felt fine and my leg was still numb. No better time to have a chat.
He explained that he had concerns - he realized that after talking to his parents and brother, that he was concerned about the fact that I had neural therapy in Costa Rica. He wasn't sure how to react before when I had told him (while I was visiting him), but that after thinking about it, he was really concerned. He was concerned because I hadn't spoken to him first. I hadn't talked it over with him before having the treatment. He was concerned that if something had gone wrong, I would have no legal recourse in Costa Rica. He was concerned because we clearly were having communication issues (referring to the Marks Work Warehouse/Lulu jokes, and the Swiffer/vacuum & mail keys discussions) and wasn't sure how to rectify the situation.
I thanked him for sharing his views and concerns and assured him that we would talk soon. The nurses were calling me and I needed to go.
Since the freezing was wearing off, I was allowed to go home and did just that. The pain was setting in. I was thinking about what Walter had said. He was concerned that I hadn't spoken to him first about Costa Rica? Really? I was too tired to think and took a nap.
I awoke at 11pm at night and texted Walter to let him know I was heading back to the hospital. I had lost all feeling in my foot and since the doctor's had failed to tell me I had a delayed block, I was a bit concerned. What if I had permanently lost feeling in my foot? My mom and I spent the night in the hospital waiting to be seen. Never fun. We slept the entire next day after which I emailed Walter back as he was not answering my calls or texts. Something was up. He had completely disappeared. I recollected the conversation from the previous day as best I could and replied to each of his concerns. I explained that sometimes when he spoke, he came across as a 'know-it-all', which meant that I was defensive. I shouldn't have reacted that way and apologized. But, we both had faults and as I tried to work through them, I continued to explain that we clearly just needed to work through them. As for the 'permission seeking' for neural therapy, I disagreed. I explained that the clinic was impeccable, that legal recourse was not something we had in Canada let alone in Costa Rica. I explained that I knew people who had received neural therapy and their conditions had improved and that nobody I knew or that research knew had side effects from the treatment considering it was all natural. I explained that this doctor had been doing this for 30 years and he knew what he was doing, and that people from all over the world came to see him. I wasn't sure what else I could write. I was happy for us to talk over the phone or on skype.
I didn't hear back. I texted Walter the next day and heard nothing. I texted again saying that I really just needed to hear his voice. We had promised each other that we wouldn't run from anything and that we'd face any issues together. He finally replied. He said that he wasn't running, rather had some concerns. (Clearly my email didn't work at solving anything). I was happy to talk about them and he wanted to wait until his parents had left. Fair enough.
As we drove up to the cottage a couple of days later, I looked up at the night sky through the window and wondered what had happened. Only a week ago, I was talking about wedding venues and rings. I visited my future fiance and although it wasn't the best visit, we were going to talk things through. But, he disappeared instead. I had barely heard from him in the last 5 days and I wasn't sure what I could do to bring him back. When we reached the cottage, two hours later, I had an email waiting for me. He was 'writing with a heavy heart'. He didn't know how we could move forward with all of these differences. He wasn't sure if we could resolve our issues because I wasn't communicating openly (hadn't asked for permission for neural therapy). He felt that he had a right over my body (because we were talking about eventually getting married), just as I had a right over his. I disagreed. He felt as though there was a growing distance between us and he didn't see it coming.
I was shocked. In lots of pain. And in complete shock. I didn't sleep. I didn't want to reply via email, rather wanted to talk. He wasn't willing to fly to down to see me and I couldn't because of the surgery, so we were stuck with Skype. And that's what we did. We talked for three hours, trying to work through things. I sent him information on neural therapy to assure him it was perfectly safe. I told him that if he had made a decision as I did, I would have supported him no matter what. I would have trusted him. That was the difference. And I was working through it because I had made a promise to him that I would. We both had a lot to think about and arranged to talk on skype the next evening. He never showed. I received a lame message four hours after our meeting time to say that he got caught up in something. I had propped myself up on a couch, in complete pain, so that we could speak. And I, stupidly, waited for four hours on that couch for him to show up on Skype.
I deserved better. A LOT better. And I told him that. That was it. We tried to reconcile things once more after that, but he made it clear that his "heart wasn't into it anymore". One day madly in love with me and a week later, his heart wasn't into it. I did deserve better. SO MUCH BETTER. And, I was going to find it.
Time to revamp that bio-data of mine!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
48-hour mayhem
On the second last day of my trip in Costa Rica, I was coming down the mountain and went over on my ankle. The ankle that I had surgery on only a year and a half earlier. The ankle that I had been so careful with and the last joint in my body I wanted to injure. Only an hour earlier, I had had neural therapy on both of my ankles and my knee to break down the scar tissue. It's a natural injection made up of caffeine and dopamine (or something similar) that basically helps break down scar tissue and reactivate nervous tissue. When you have surgery, you can lose the sensation of your skin where the scar is - so that part of your skin doesn't feel like it's a part of your body. Neural Therapy helps treat that - it's like restarting your computer when it stops working - this just resets your nerves. All natural, no known side effects. The only risk would have been from the needle the doctor used.
I was in an ecovillage that was started by a German doctor and a few other doctors also lived there. He was a pioneer of Neural Therapy back in Germany and then moved to Costa Rica about 20 years prior. He had been operating a small natural remedies clinic for 20 years from the village. It was impeccably clean and well-run. People from all over the world came to see the doctor who had treated cancer patients and extended their lives with similar treatments. I was only getting scar tissue removed. What I didn't realize is that the first surgery on my ankle had failed and the only thing that was still holding it in place, was scar tissue. Getting rid of it meant that my ankle was incredibly unstable.
So, in immense pain, I was given a ride down the hill, and then hobbled the rest of the trip back to the UK and then back to Canada. I went to see my knee surgeon (family friend) who recommended another ankle surgeon and set up an appointment the next morning. After a quick examination, the ankle surgeon set me up with immediate surgery as the only option - he had opening in 48 hours and could take me in. He would need to take a ligament from my hamstring and harvest it as the ligament for my ankle. Cool, yet scary. Since I hated being put under, my only option was to have a spinal freeze. More dangerous but a much better recovery.
It was suggested that I go see Walter before the surgery as I wouldn't be able to travel afterwards. I wasn't in the best of moods and my mind was on the surgery, but I didn't disagree. I did want to see him - he would've made my world a little bit better. We had been discussing rings via email/skype and I knew that he had purchased one. I knew that he was planning to propose relatively soon because my mom had accidentally told me about the Indian engagement that was planned for the beginning of November.
My trip to Halifax was very quick - I went from the hospital to pack my bag and off to the airport and was set to return the next evening, less than 12 hours before I would be operated on. Walter's parents, brother and niece were also visiting him in Halifax so it was a good time for me to see everyone.
The first thing we did was pick up my apartment keys. Walter had been amazing with the move and while I wrote my thesis, he viewed and found me an apartment. It was within budget and super close to his place (where we figured I'd spend most of my time anyway). The move had been so easy and I was so thankful for all of his help! He had met my superintendent and so picking up the keys was easy. As soon as I got them, I was very excited...
"A mail key," I exclaimed, " I have mail!!"
"You might have mail," he replied.
"Really? Might? I have been forwarding my mail for the last month - surely there is something, even if it's junk mail!", I retorted.
"But, you haven't checked yet, so how do you know for certain that you have mail?", he explained.
"Of course. Let's move on," I said, slightly annoyed. Thanks for bursting that bubble for me.
The afternoon progressed and he saw my vacuum cleaner.
"Did you test the theory?", I asked, referring to an earlier Skype conversation. He preferred Swiffer on his floors while I preferred a vacuum. He didn't think that a vacuum worked just as well (if not better) and so had to test this theory on his own (rather than just taking my word for it). Fair deal, and I was curious to see if he'd tested it.
"No, I haven't had a chance," he replied.
Being a bit cheeky, I continued "well, I still think that Vacuum trumps Swiffer," with a smile.
"Maybe, we'll have to see," he said.
"Those sheets just fill up landfills and don't pick up as much dust," I regrettably continued, jokingly.
"Well... ... you get noise pollution from vacuums," he replied very seriously.
Clearly this was not a joking matter, so I digressed from the conversation. "Let's not talk about this," I said. Knowing that I only had 24 hours with him, the last thing I wanted to do was have a meaningless fight.
We went back to his place, met up with his family and went to dinner. He told me that he had been to Marks Work Warehouse with his parents and picked up some new clothes. He was very excited. Remembering his Lululemon comment, I decided to poke a little fun and say "well, if I were to take you shopping, it's not where I'd take you". Clearly, it was not taken very well, because I had to repeat the statement three times, each time increasing the emphasis on "I" and making it sound even more joking/sarcastic than before. No dice. He figured that it was off limits because if he wasn't allowed to joke about my clothing choice, I shouldn't be allowed to joke about his. Since when had he been joking about my lulu's? He persisted and said "well, if I were to take you shopping, I wouldn't take you to Lulu!". Okay - fair enough... whatever, 'let's not talk about this', I said, dropping the subject.
We went for a long walk after dropping off his parents. He seemed upset and clearly wanted to talk. And, we did. He told me that he had concerns - that he felt that when I said "let's not talk about this", it meant that I didn't want to hear what he had to say. He felt that I wasn't listening to him and didn't want to hear his opinion. I explained that I had a limited time to spend with him and I didn't want to have meaningless arguments. My mind was clearly elsewhere as I was quiet for most of the conversation. I didn't have much to say and wanted to hear him out before I responded.
The next morning, we went to find a few things from the boxes in my apartment. We ended up having a long conversation, where he continued to discuss his concerns. He felt that I didn't want to listen to him (still referring to the 'let's not talk about this' comment) and that we were not communicating well. My concern was that he couldn't take anything as a joke or understand that everyone has faults. My faults had clearly been pointed out but although he claimed to look at his own, he didn't actually see that he had any. Even if we left the major things out, he couldn't see the small things, either. For me, the quickest way to confirm (or refute) my theory was to ask one question. Surely, someone who has grown up in Canada and has great friends would realize if his wardrobe (filled with old-man clothes) is 'cool' or not? (I didn't actually care if it was or wasn't, I just wanted to see what his self-perception was). So, with my head preoccupied about the surgery and not really wanting to have in-depth discussions about anything, I put my theory to the test.
"You know, Walter, I'm sorry if you feel that way. I have tried to explain that your interpretation is incorrect. I love hearing what you have to say and am always up for a discussion. I just didn't want to have big discussions about little things that don't really matter. But I do need to know the answer to something. Do you think your wardrobe is cool?"
Just as I suspected, he answered "Yes," not understanding why I asked him that most random question.
I knew from his answer that he clearly couldn't see any faults with what he did or how he thought. Nobody had really challenged him up until that point and I don't think he took kindly to it. We had a lot to talk about and I was confident that we'd sort things out and move forward and grow together. I didn't have all of the answers and I knew he didn't either. But, together, we would sort it out. We had made a commitment to each other, and we'd had minor disagreements like this before, so we'd definitely sort through these ones.
As we bid adieu at the airport, he was quiet. I knew we had things to talk about. I told him that we'd work it out and sort things out but for now I needed to focus on my surgery and recovery. He agreed. We were both quiet as we had one long final hug before I got on the plane and flew home. We'd work it out...
I was in an ecovillage that was started by a German doctor and a few other doctors also lived there. He was a pioneer of Neural Therapy back in Germany and then moved to Costa Rica about 20 years prior. He had been operating a small natural remedies clinic for 20 years from the village. It was impeccably clean and well-run. People from all over the world came to see the doctor who had treated cancer patients and extended their lives with similar treatments. I was only getting scar tissue removed. What I didn't realize is that the first surgery on my ankle had failed and the only thing that was still holding it in place, was scar tissue. Getting rid of it meant that my ankle was incredibly unstable.
So, in immense pain, I was given a ride down the hill, and then hobbled the rest of the trip back to the UK and then back to Canada. I went to see my knee surgeon (family friend) who recommended another ankle surgeon and set up an appointment the next morning. After a quick examination, the ankle surgeon set me up with immediate surgery as the only option - he had opening in 48 hours and could take me in. He would need to take a ligament from my hamstring and harvest it as the ligament for my ankle. Cool, yet scary. Since I hated being put under, my only option was to have a spinal freeze. More dangerous but a much better recovery.
It was suggested that I go see Walter before the surgery as I wouldn't be able to travel afterwards. I wasn't in the best of moods and my mind was on the surgery, but I didn't disagree. I did want to see him - he would've made my world a little bit better. We had been discussing rings via email/skype and I knew that he had purchased one. I knew that he was planning to propose relatively soon because my mom had accidentally told me about the Indian engagement that was planned for the beginning of November.
My trip to Halifax was very quick - I went from the hospital to pack my bag and off to the airport and was set to return the next evening, less than 12 hours before I would be operated on. Walter's parents, brother and niece were also visiting him in Halifax so it was a good time for me to see everyone.
The first thing we did was pick up my apartment keys. Walter had been amazing with the move and while I wrote my thesis, he viewed and found me an apartment. It was within budget and super close to his place (where we figured I'd spend most of my time anyway). The move had been so easy and I was so thankful for all of his help! He had met my superintendent and so picking up the keys was easy. As soon as I got them, I was very excited...
"A mail key," I exclaimed, " I have mail!!"
"You might have mail," he replied.
"Really? Might? I have been forwarding my mail for the last month - surely there is something, even if it's junk mail!", I retorted.
"But, you haven't checked yet, so how do you know for certain that you have mail?", he explained.
"Of course. Let's move on," I said, slightly annoyed. Thanks for bursting that bubble for me.
The afternoon progressed and he saw my vacuum cleaner.
"Did you test the theory?", I asked, referring to an earlier Skype conversation. He preferred Swiffer on his floors while I preferred a vacuum. He didn't think that a vacuum worked just as well (if not better) and so had to test this theory on his own (rather than just taking my word for it). Fair deal, and I was curious to see if he'd tested it.
"No, I haven't had a chance," he replied.
Being a bit cheeky, I continued "well, I still think that Vacuum trumps Swiffer," with a smile.
"Maybe, we'll have to see," he said.
"Those sheets just fill up landfills and don't pick up as much dust," I regrettably continued, jokingly.
"Well... ... you get noise pollution from vacuums," he replied very seriously.
Clearly this was not a joking matter, so I digressed from the conversation. "Let's not talk about this," I said. Knowing that I only had 24 hours with him, the last thing I wanted to do was have a meaningless fight.
We went back to his place, met up with his family and went to dinner. He told me that he had been to Marks Work Warehouse with his parents and picked up some new clothes. He was very excited. Remembering his Lululemon comment, I decided to poke a little fun and say "well, if I were to take you shopping, it's not where I'd take you". Clearly, it was not taken very well, because I had to repeat the statement three times, each time increasing the emphasis on "I" and making it sound even more joking/sarcastic than before. No dice. He figured that it was off limits because if he wasn't allowed to joke about my clothing choice, I shouldn't be allowed to joke about his. Since when had he been joking about my lulu's? He persisted and said "well, if I were to take you shopping, I wouldn't take you to Lulu!". Okay - fair enough... whatever, 'let's not talk about this', I said, dropping the subject.
We went for a long walk after dropping off his parents. He seemed upset and clearly wanted to talk. And, we did. He told me that he had concerns - that he felt that when I said "let's not talk about this", it meant that I didn't want to hear what he had to say. He felt that I wasn't listening to him and didn't want to hear his opinion. I explained that I had a limited time to spend with him and I didn't want to have meaningless arguments. My mind was clearly elsewhere as I was quiet for most of the conversation. I didn't have much to say and wanted to hear him out before I responded.
The next morning, we went to find a few things from the boxes in my apartment. We ended up having a long conversation, where he continued to discuss his concerns. He felt that I didn't want to listen to him (still referring to the 'let's not talk about this' comment) and that we were not communicating well. My concern was that he couldn't take anything as a joke or understand that everyone has faults. My faults had clearly been pointed out but although he claimed to look at his own, he didn't actually see that he had any. Even if we left the major things out, he couldn't see the small things, either. For me, the quickest way to confirm (or refute) my theory was to ask one question. Surely, someone who has grown up in Canada and has great friends would realize if his wardrobe (filled with old-man clothes) is 'cool' or not? (I didn't actually care if it was or wasn't, I just wanted to see what his self-perception was). So, with my head preoccupied about the surgery and not really wanting to have in-depth discussions about anything, I put my theory to the test.
"You know, Walter, I'm sorry if you feel that way. I have tried to explain that your interpretation is incorrect. I love hearing what you have to say and am always up for a discussion. I just didn't want to have big discussions about little things that don't really matter. But I do need to know the answer to something. Do you think your wardrobe is cool?"
Just as I suspected, he answered "Yes," not understanding why I asked him that most random question.
I knew from his answer that he clearly couldn't see any faults with what he did or how he thought. Nobody had really challenged him up until that point and I don't think he took kindly to it. We had a lot to talk about and I was confident that we'd sort things out and move forward and grow together. I didn't have all of the answers and I knew he didn't either. But, together, we would sort it out. We had made a commitment to each other, and we'd had minor disagreements like this before, so we'd definitely sort through these ones.
As we bid adieu at the airport, he was quiet. I knew we had things to talk about. I told him that we'd work it out and sort things out but for now I needed to focus on my surgery and recovery. He agreed. We were both quiet as we had one long final hug before I got on the plane and flew home. We'd work it out...
Birthday presents...
My birthday had come only a few weeks after Walter and I had met. He had shared a year of law school with my brother and they had both participated in the talent show that year. He had the video and had promised to convert it to DVD for me so that I could see my brother's performance. (He was also on the DVD for his (so called) comedic impressions of some of his professors. I figure I didn't find it funny considering I didn't know the professors he was poking fun at). Either way, a birthday card and DVD arrived about a week after my birthday. If we're talking about gift quality, it's not what I would have considered a great gift - not from a guy who is supposed to be trying to impress you within the first couple of months of a relationship. But, having said that, I was thankful that he remembered my birthday, that we had spoken on my actual birthday and that he had taken the time to send me something. It was clearly a case of 'it's the thought that counts'. I didn't mind so much.
I, on the other hand, am a bit more creative when it comes to gifts (as long as I have time). He loved song lyrics. He could remember the most obscure lyrics and know exactly which song they were from. Although it was sometimes annoying, I admired his ability to remember things like this. I certainly did not have that talent! After finding about 60 songs that I liked that could potentially be used, I started to extract a line or two from every song in order to compile a letter. Each sentence/phrase was from a different song, which turned into a 4-paneled card. I burned the songs on a few cd's and used the titles to create a mini-story of how we met. I thought it was cute. And he had fun guessing all of the songs (which he managed to know just about all of them)!
Lesson: Creativity wasn't his forte... but that's okay. It was minor and I could live with it. Moving forward was definitely the right thing to do - I kept an open mind and kept going.
I, on the other hand, am a bit more creative when it comes to gifts (as long as I have time). He loved song lyrics. He could remember the most obscure lyrics and know exactly which song they were from. Although it was sometimes annoying, I admired his ability to remember things like this. I certainly did not have that talent! After finding about 60 songs that I liked that could potentially be used, I started to extract a line or two from every song in order to compile a letter. Each sentence/phrase was from a different song, which turned into a 4-paneled card. I burned the songs on a few cd's and used the titles to create a mini-story of how we met. I thought it was cute. And he had fun guessing all of the songs (which he managed to know just about all of them)!
Lesson: Creativity wasn't his forte... but that's okay. It was minor and I could live with it. Moving forward was definitely the right thing to do - I kept an open mind and kept going.
Flower mess up - lots of lilies!
I went down to Trafalgar Square for Canada Day - it turned out to a very fun, but long day. I was tired. Walking back to my flat from the train station, I was thinking about how much I missed Walter and wished that he were there so we could walk together, under the stars.
I arrived back to my flat and was coming up the stairs. There was a gorgeous smell of lilies as I climbed up towards my flat. I love lilies...
To my surprise, there were two (two!) bouquets of lilies sitting at my doorstep! I had a huge smile on my face as I brought them into my flat and opened the cards. Both from Walter!
The first was for Canada Day, and the second was for the completion of my thesis. The flower shop must have made a mistake as I wasn't going to be finished my thesis for another two weeks! Oh well! :)
I had the most fragrant flat for the week that followed - it was fabulous!
bliss! :)
Monday, May 23, 2011
Whoa! Things are moving fast!
I was coming home for a weekend between handing in my thesis and taking off to Costa Rica for a few weeks. The trip was a school trip - I was taking 11 students that I once taught on a volunteer/adventure trip to Costa Rica. I was excited and this trip home was to drop off my things and pack up my room (for my move to Halifax - I had turned down a few job offers in the UK in favour for a part-time position in Halifax so that I could be closer to Walter as our relationship was growing and neither of us wanted any more long distance).
Walter and I had also discussed our parents and talking to them about our relationship. My parents were keen on me moving to Halifax without some sort of commitment. Walter and I had talked about it and we agreed that our parents should meet and discuss things before we continued any further. Since it was the only weekend we'd both be in town before the move, our parents were set to meet.
It was a whirlwind of a weekend. We flew in Friday evening and went straight to his parents' place for dinner. As we were about to sit down to eat, Walter went and turned on some traditional Indian songs (bhajans). 'That's odd', I thought to myself, I didn't realize he liked to listen to bhajans. I knew he was a bit traditional (calls his mom 'Ba' and his dad 'Bapuji' and never says mom or dad, rather mother and father), but I didn't know about the bhajans. Quirk, I thought. No big deal. His dad told me that these were his favourite bhajans and always put them on when having dinner together.
I picked him up early in the morning and we drove 2 hours to see his older brother. This brother had semi-recently been divorced (a couple of years) and he was still clearly upset by things. Understandably so as it was relatively sudden and nobody saw it coming. It was a lovely afternoon and I enjoyed getting to know his family better.
The next morning, we went over to my place and as I ran a few errands, he spoke to my parents and asked them for my hand in marriage. We had known each other for 5 months at this point. I was okay with getting engaged in the coming months and from what I knew, Walter had quirks I could live with and be flexible towards, and that overall, the relationship would be fine. He was a good person and would treat me well. I knew things weren't perfect, but they were far from terrible. What were the odds I'd find another tall, sporty, outdoorsy, musical, vegetarian, Gujarati-speaking guy? This was the right thing to do.
His family arrived soon after and both families had dinner together and got to know each other. His parents were quite a bit older and it turned out that my grandparents and his parents knew common people from back in the day. Small world!
I dropped Walter off to the airport as he headed back to Halifax (I flew out the following night) and told him I'd see him after Costa Rica. I'd miss him and was excited that my parents had agreed and that we could start planning the rest of our lives together!
It was the right thing to do...
Walter and I had also discussed our parents and talking to them about our relationship. My parents were keen on me moving to Halifax without some sort of commitment. Walter and I had talked about it and we agreed that our parents should meet and discuss things before we continued any further. Since it was the only weekend we'd both be in town before the move, our parents were set to meet.
It was a whirlwind of a weekend. We flew in Friday evening and went straight to his parents' place for dinner. As we were about to sit down to eat, Walter went and turned on some traditional Indian songs (bhajans). 'That's odd', I thought to myself, I didn't realize he liked to listen to bhajans. I knew he was a bit traditional (calls his mom 'Ba' and his dad 'Bapuji' and never says mom or dad, rather mother and father), but I didn't know about the bhajans. Quirk, I thought. No big deal. His dad told me that these were his favourite bhajans and always put them on when having dinner together.
I picked him up early in the morning and we drove 2 hours to see his older brother. This brother had semi-recently been divorced (a couple of years) and he was still clearly upset by things. Understandably so as it was relatively sudden and nobody saw it coming. It was a lovely afternoon and I enjoyed getting to know his family better.
The next morning, we went over to my place and as I ran a few errands, he spoke to my parents and asked them for my hand in marriage. We had known each other for 5 months at this point. I was okay with getting engaged in the coming months and from what I knew, Walter had quirks I could live with and be flexible towards, and that overall, the relationship would be fine. He was a good person and would treat me well. I knew things weren't perfect, but they were far from terrible. What were the odds I'd find another tall, sporty, outdoorsy, musical, vegetarian, Gujarati-speaking guy? This was the right thing to do.
His family arrived soon after and both families had dinner together and got to know each other. His parents were quite a bit older and it turned out that my grandparents and his parents knew common people from back in the day. Small world!
I dropped Walter off to the airport as he headed back to Halifax (I flew out the following night) and told him I'd see him after Costa Rica. I'd miss him and was excited that my parents had agreed and that we could start planning the rest of our lives together!
It was the right thing to do...
Copy Cat or Quirk?
I had been noticing that when Walter and I had discussions, there were times where his opinion or observation or comment was almost exactly what mine was, but I never thought twice about it. 'We're amazingly similar', I figured. Excellent! :)
It wasn't until I sent a fairly heart-felt email to him that I realized how similar things actually were (and these are just three examples...there are many more)...
The comparison (what I wrote/his response)
I felt at home when I stepped into your apartment/it felt as though you had been to my apartment before...you were totally at home
You have a way of making me feel at ease/you make me feel at ease
When I think about how something that may bother you, you turn around and talk about it/you've taken things in stride that I thought may bother you
I love the quirks about you - shirts tucked in, cheesy song lyrics, safety goggles in the kitchen, OCD tendencies/things about you - hoodies, track pants, 2-in-the-morning hair...
I can't believe we've only known each other for 2.5 months and yet you've had an amazing impact on me/we've only known each other for 2.5 months, but it's been among the most joy-filled periods of my life
I look forward to bringing you as much happiness as you have brought to me/You've brought great joy to my life and I want to do everything I can to see you smile and know that you're happy.
If the conversation isn't convincing enough (for me, it caught me off guard and although I know his words are completely genuine, I felt like I had just read what I had written to him!), there's more...
When Walter arrived in the UK and came to watch me row (I had a series of races during the weekend he was in town), he had printed "Go, Anika, Go!" t-shirts for my friends and himself to cheer me on. Where had I seen that before? I know, it's the thought that counts, but still!
When Walter left Cambridge, what did he give me? That's right, a stack of cards - one for every week we'd be apart until I finished my thesis. Quirk or copy cat??
(Keep an open mind)
It wasn't until I sent a fairly heart-felt email to him that I realized how similar things actually were (and these are just three examples...there are many more)...
The comparison (what I wrote/his response)
I felt at home when I stepped into your apartment/it felt as though you had been to my apartment before...you were totally at home
You have a way of making me feel at ease/you make me feel at ease
When I think about how something that may bother you, you turn around and talk about it/you've taken things in stride that I thought may bother you
I love the quirks about you - shirts tucked in, cheesy song lyrics, safety goggles in the kitchen, OCD tendencies/things about you - hoodies, track pants, 2-in-the-morning hair...
I can't believe we've only known each other for 2.5 months and yet you've had an amazing impact on me/we've only known each other for 2.5 months, but it's been among the most joy-filled periods of my life
I look forward to bringing you as much happiness as you have brought to me/You've brought great joy to my life and I want to do everything I can to see you smile and know that you're happy.
If the conversation isn't convincing enough (for me, it caught me off guard and although I know his words are completely genuine, I felt like I had just read what I had written to him!), there's more...
When Walter arrived in the UK and came to watch me row (I had a series of races during the weekend he was in town), he had printed "Go, Anika, Go!" t-shirts for my friends and himself to cheer me on. Where had I seen that before? I know, it's the thought that counts, but still!
When Walter left Cambridge, what did he give me? That's right, a stack of cards - one for every week we'd be apart until I finished my thesis. Quirk or copy cat??
(Keep an open mind)
Cambridge
I was stoked! I had finally completed enough of my thesis in order to take the weekend off. All I had to do was send off the chapter to my supervisor after one last read.
I set off early to pick up Walter from the airport. Since I hadn't had time, a good friend took my flat keys and picked up balloons and a 'welcome home' sign for Walter's arrival. I had covered my car windows with funny cards/postcards all written to Walter for his journey home. I love little surprises!
It was a packed weekend. Rowing races, formal balls, tea parties and a surprise trip to Paris that Walter was unaware of. Exciting!
As we set off towards the river, Walter pulled out his first surprise - the t-shirts that said 'Go Anika, Go' on them. Deja vu? Very sweet though - I had my own fan club.
For the formal ball, Walter chose to wear his mess kit. Talk about stunning man in uniform. He looked great! I was one of the few (from my set of friends) who had brought a date, so I wanted to make sure that we didn't create any awkward moments for the girls. After all, Walter was a last-minute addition to the party as it was meant to be a girls' night out! Walter didn't seem to understand that, despite my subtle hints. He wanted to be clingy and boyfriendy all night. And I felt bad, but being brought up the way I've been, public display of affection just aren't my thing and neither is creating an awkward situation with my girlfriends and I. There was no reason we all couldn't have a good time just hanging out and dancing and save the lovey dovey stuff til later! He couldn't take a hint (or several), and so it annoyed me.
The next morning, we met up with friends for brunch. He really wanted to learn how to make an Indian dessert that I love to make (Shrikhand - pressed yoghurt + spices) so I quickly taught him before straightening my hair. Normally to make it takes about an hour (50 minutes of which is just getting the water out of the yoghurt...ie. doing nothing). The rest of the process should take no more than ten minutes. Not for meticulous military man, though. There was nothing like time-pressure with this guy. We were running late for brunch and with no sense of urgency, Walter took 30 minutes to complete the recipe (let me clarify - the 'rest of the recipe' included scraping the yoghurt off the cloth and adding three spices. 30 minutes? No offence, but a monkey can work faster!). Clearly, I needed to have more patience. That, however, wasn't even the best part. When we got to brunch, my friends asked about the recipe (knowing it was why we were late), wondering if he liked it. Now, normal boyfriend response would be "yes, it was delicious". Walter's response: "it was good, but not as good as my mom's". Who does that?!?
We rushed off to catch the train to London. Walter hadn't been in awhile and I told him that I'd gotten us a hotel room in London for the night. When we arrived, I found a cab that would take us to the hotel but asked him to look up the address on our confirmation. He was confused and said "well, this can't be the right one as this is for Paris, we're in London."
"Well, check the date, maybe I mixed them up," I replied.
"It's for today, so it can't be right....wait..."
"Surprise!!!"
We had a quiet evening as we were both exhausted from the late nights before and wanted to make most of our only day in the city, the next day. In the morning, we decided it was best to check out and spend the day walking around until our evening train back to Cambridge. So, we got ready and checked out. It took me about 20 minutes from start to finish (brushing my teeth to fully packed). Walter, the meticulous army guy, had a definite way of packing. Everything had it's place. It was a slow and steady process. Very slow and steady. It took another 45 minutes before we could get going. Patience, I kept reminding myself. Everyone is different and it's about finding compromise. I wondered how I would survive, though. For most things, I worked on hyperdrive - I like to get things done and move on. Would I be able to find patience for a man with whom every task is completed at a very slow (in relative terms) pace? 'Keep an open mind,' I thought to myself. 'This will be good on some level - he'll slow you down and you'll speed him up and you'll find the middle ground.'
I set off early to pick up Walter from the airport. Since I hadn't had time, a good friend took my flat keys and picked up balloons and a 'welcome home' sign for Walter's arrival. I had covered my car windows with funny cards/postcards all written to Walter for his journey home. I love little surprises!
It was a packed weekend. Rowing races, formal balls, tea parties and a surprise trip to Paris that Walter was unaware of. Exciting!
As we set off towards the river, Walter pulled out his first surprise - the t-shirts that said 'Go Anika, Go' on them. Deja vu? Very sweet though - I had my own fan club.
For the formal ball, Walter chose to wear his mess kit. Talk about stunning man in uniform. He looked great! I was one of the few (from my set of friends) who had brought a date, so I wanted to make sure that we didn't create any awkward moments for the girls. After all, Walter was a last-minute addition to the party as it was meant to be a girls' night out! Walter didn't seem to understand that, despite my subtle hints. He wanted to be clingy and boyfriendy all night. And I felt bad, but being brought up the way I've been, public display of affection just aren't my thing and neither is creating an awkward situation with my girlfriends and I. There was no reason we all couldn't have a good time just hanging out and dancing and save the lovey dovey stuff til later! He couldn't take a hint (or several), and so it annoyed me.
The next morning, we met up with friends for brunch. He really wanted to learn how to make an Indian dessert that I love to make (Shrikhand - pressed yoghurt + spices) so I quickly taught him before straightening my hair. Normally to make it takes about an hour (50 minutes of which is just getting the water out of the yoghurt...ie. doing nothing). The rest of the process should take no more than ten minutes. Not for meticulous military man, though. There was nothing like time-pressure with this guy. We were running late for brunch and with no sense of urgency, Walter took 30 minutes to complete the recipe (let me clarify - the 'rest of the recipe' included scraping the yoghurt off the cloth and adding three spices. 30 minutes? No offence, but a monkey can work faster!). Clearly, I needed to have more patience. That, however, wasn't even the best part. When we got to brunch, my friends asked about the recipe (knowing it was why we were late), wondering if he liked it. Now, normal boyfriend response would be "yes, it was delicious". Walter's response: "it was good, but not as good as my mom's". Who does that?!?
We rushed off to catch the train to London. Walter hadn't been in awhile and I told him that I'd gotten us a hotel room in London for the night. When we arrived, I found a cab that would take us to the hotel but asked him to look up the address on our confirmation. He was confused and said "well, this can't be the right one as this is for Paris, we're in London."
"Well, check the date, maybe I mixed them up," I replied.
"It's for today, so it can't be right....wait..."
"Surprise!!!"
We had a quiet evening as we were both exhausted from the late nights before and wanted to make most of our only day in the city, the next day. In the morning, we decided it was best to check out and spend the day walking around until our evening train back to Cambridge. So, we got ready and checked out. It took me about 20 minutes from start to finish (brushing my teeth to fully packed). Walter, the meticulous army guy, had a definite way of packing. Everything had it's place. It was a slow and steady process. Very slow and steady. It took another 45 minutes before we could get going. Patience, I kept reminding myself. Everyone is different and it's about finding compromise. I wondered how I would survive, though. For most things, I worked on hyperdrive - I like to get things done and move on. Would I be able to find patience for a man with whom every task is completed at a very slow (in relative terms) pace? 'Keep an open mind,' I thought to myself. 'This will be good on some level - he'll slow you down and you'll speed him up and you'll find the middle ground.'
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Quirks and all...
The weekend in Halifax was a good weekend, overall. I had never been to Walter's place, but immediately felt at home. It was a feeling I wasn't expecting. And, I learned more about Walter.
Walter tucks in every single one of his shirts. It doesn't matter if it's a long-sleeved button down shirt, or a t-shirt, or anything else. It will be tucked in. And, on top of that, his pants are worn at belly-button height. Thankfully not as bad as Steve Urkel, but not too far off. Quirky and geekily cute!
I found a pair of safety goggles (like in a science lab) in Walter's kitchen. They even had the wrap-around string so they wouldn't fall off. I was curious. What could they possibly be for and why would they be in the kitchen. Chopping onions. Yup, they were for chopping onions. I can't even pretend that there is any cuteness associated with that - it's just funny!
Song lyrics. Walter had a knack for remembering song lyrics. A talent that I have never had. And it was pretty funny when Walter could take a regular conversation and turn it into a string of song lyrics. Again, geekily cute...
Quirks and all, I still liked the guy and we'd see where things went!
Walter tucks in every single one of his shirts. It doesn't matter if it's a long-sleeved button down shirt, or a t-shirt, or anything else. It will be tucked in. And, on top of that, his pants are worn at belly-button height. Thankfully not as bad as Steve Urkel, but not too far off. Quirky and geekily cute!
I found a pair of safety goggles (like in a science lab) in Walter's kitchen. They even had the wrap-around string so they wouldn't fall off. I was curious. What could they possibly be for and why would they be in the kitchen. Chopping onions. Yup, they were for chopping onions. I can't even pretend that there is any cuteness associated with that - it's just funny!
Song lyrics. Walter had a knack for remembering song lyrics. A talent that I have never had. And it was pretty funny when Walter could take a regular conversation and turn it into a string of song lyrics. Again, geekily cute...
Quirks and all, I still liked the guy and we'd see where things went!
Keeping an Open Mind
This was my new mantra; after everything with Joe and believing that I had let the best thing in my life go before of beliefs that I didn't even believe in, I needed to keep an open mind with what the future could bring. Joe always told me that one of his fears, for me, was that I would not let anyone else into my life. His fear was founded as he knew me well. Even friends had told me over the years that I had never really given any other guy a fair chance. So, pushing that all aside, I was set to keep an open mind about every guy that I met going forward.
Walter and I had a long few weeks over Skype. We were both busy, but still made it work. Despite the time differences, we managed to have online dinner dates almost daily and found ways to make things work. Time was going by so quickly and I was excited about going to see him in Halifax for the long weekend. I found it surprising when he asked me if it was okay if he ran a 10km race while I was there. He had ran it the year before and was excited to have the opportunity to run in it again. I had no issues and it wouldn't have bothered me if he hadn't asked. It was considerate of him, and I appreciated it. He always found a way to make me feel very important and made it a point to let me know that I was a big part of his life now. He had mentioned before I visited that he had even put pictures of me up on his fridge, by his bedside and his office. This was odd for me. Very odd. Our family home barely has pictures of the family around. I've only ever kept one picture of Joe around, and it was because he gave me the frame as a gift. Joe never kept pictures of me (or anyone else) around. It just wasn't something I was brought up with or was used to. But, keeping an open mind, I thought to myself 'well, that's nice of him'.
Walter and I ended up having some pretty serious discussions early on in our relationship. I was going to be finishing up my Masters and needed to decide whether I would be moving back to Toronto or to Halifax (to be with Walter). Walter and I talked about Halifax and whether or not it was the right thing to do; neither of us wanted a long-distance relationship for another year and things were going well. We would see if I could pick up a job in Halifax, and then decide. Accordingly, I had lined up a few interviews for the weekend while I was visiting Walter. I had nothing to lose. Plus, I liked the guy..a lot. :)
I was thrilled to see him in Halifax - I had called a very good friend of mine for fashion advice. I live in my baggy sweats and hoodies - it's incredibly comfortable and usually I don't really care about what people think. But, I was slowly reforming my ways and this was a weekend that mattered to me. I needed advice on the best combinations in my wardrobe to be able to pack in the most minimalistic yet fashionable way possible. Clearly, if I was taking the time to figure out what I wanted to wear, I like this guy... ;)
I have a soft spot for men in uniform - I don't know many women who don't. Army uniforms, especially. Yum. I was expecting to take a cab from the airport to meet up with Walter as he mentioned that he was busy at work and wanted to wrap things up before I arrived. One of his friends (I found out later) had threatened to smack him upside the head if he didn't pick me up, so as I made my way down the stairs to the arrivals area, there was Walter, all handsome-looking in his fabulous army uniform!!
He had scouted out some gluten-free places for me to eat and we grabbed a quick bite before my first interview. I had two lined up that afternoon and one for the morning before I left. The first two schools ended up loving me, but sadly had no openings at the time. The third school also (thankfully) loved me and could likely only offer a part time opening. We would see where things went.
Walter had invited his friends over for a party that evening - he was very excited to introduce me to everyone. It was clear that he spoken a lot about me to his friends. I wasn't sure how I felt about that as we had made a decision to keep things fairly low key until we were sure things would work out. It was a fun night, though. His friends were fantastic and we had a lovely evening.
We went to brunch the next morning with his friends, who were fantastic. Such sweethearts. If these are the types of people he is good friends with, then I don't have much to worry about! :)
Walter ran his 10k race and a friend of his came with me to cheer him on. I had t-shirts made that said "Go Walter, Go!" on them as a fun surprise. He was thrilled and we had a blast walking around in the sun from one point of the race course to the other. Thankfully, we caught Walter as he was about to cross the finish line and to my surprise, he looked like he was ready to pass out! He had been telling me about his rigorous training schedule for the race, but I guess the ups/downs of the actual course took it's toll on him... turned out that he had beat his previous time by 25 seconds, so he was happy! :)
We met up with some other friends of his the next morning for brunch at Cora's. I decided to wear my Lululemons with a nice top, long sweater and ballet flats. It was dressing up the lulu's, which fit well and overall, the outfit worked. I was still new to Lulu (I've always been a hardcore Roots fan) so was sharing my excitement of having a pair of very comfy pants that can be dressed up and down. Walter wasn't thrilled about my excitement because he "would've rather that [I] had worn jeans to brunch". Oh.
Did I hear you right? Did you just say what I think you said? Really? You would rather that I had worn jeans?
I tried to drop the issue. 'Don't start a fight now, Anika, it's not worth it', I kept telling myself. I couldn't help it though - when I get annoyed, I go quiet and he knew something was wrong. After awhile, I finally gathered the courage to confront him on it and explain that I had spent quite a bit of time putting together my wardrobe and that I didn't think it was fair for him to say that he would've preferred if I had worn jeans. My attire was perfectly fine and we were just going to Cora's!
I mostly got over it - he apologized and said that it wasn't what he meant. He just didn't think that Lulu's were as versatile as I was pointing them out to be. Fine. Small issue, move on. Keep an open mind.
As would have been expected, there were some intimate moments during the weekend. It was nice to be held after such a long time and to feel the comfort of being in someone's arms. I discovered, however, that Walter had never manscaped in his life. One of the many Skype conversations we'd had was about relative deal breakers. One of mine, was a hairy bum. Just don't like thinking about. I know, it's common, but there are so many ways to rectify that. Walter had told me that it wasn't an issue and that he was glad that he had inherited the non-hairy genes from his parents. Brilliant! Not the case, however. Keep an open mind. He had lied to me and I felt slightly betrayed. Not that, in reality, I would have ever ended a relationship over something so little (because it can easily be fixed), but lying was not acceptable. So, lies and no manscaping (of any kind). Both gross. (Keep an open mind.) So I explained that I wasn't happy with the lie (he apologized and tried to explain), nor with the manscaping (which upset him). If he can tell me that he prefers that I wear jeans, I sure as heavens can tell him that I prefer some sort of maintenance in the hair department. It was as if he was wearing a rug from the waist down. Gross. He eventually acknowledged and accepted my points, which helped with the theme of keeping an open mind!
As I packed to head back to the UK, we quickly realized that we were running late. I asked him throw the last few things into my bag while I finished getting a few other things ready. One of the items that needed to go in was my computer cable. We were under a time crunch but that didn't seem to bother Walter. Being a military man, he took his time to meticulously wrap the cable before throwing it into the bag. He drove exactly 100km/hr the entire way to the airport and I was incredibly lucky for the lack of traffic and checked in my bags with one minute to spare. Phew! As I boarded the plane after saying goodbye (and knowing that I would see him only three weeks later in the UK), I remember the computer cable and thought "Who does that??". Oh well, Anika, keep an open mind!
Walter and I had a long few weeks over Skype. We were both busy, but still made it work. Despite the time differences, we managed to have online dinner dates almost daily and found ways to make things work. Time was going by so quickly and I was excited about going to see him in Halifax for the long weekend. I found it surprising when he asked me if it was okay if he ran a 10km race while I was there. He had ran it the year before and was excited to have the opportunity to run in it again. I had no issues and it wouldn't have bothered me if he hadn't asked. It was considerate of him, and I appreciated it. He always found a way to make me feel very important and made it a point to let me know that I was a big part of his life now. He had mentioned before I visited that he had even put pictures of me up on his fridge, by his bedside and his office. This was odd for me. Very odd. Our family home barely has pictures of the family around. I've only ever kept one picture of Joe around, and it was because he gave me the frame as a gift. Joe never kept pictures of me (or anyone else) around. It just wasn't something I was brought up with or was used to. But, keeping an open mind, I thought to myself 'well, that's nice of him'.
Walter and I ended up having some pretty serious discussions early on in our relationship. I was going to be finishing up my Masters and needed to decide whether I would be moving back to Toronto or to Halifax (to be with Walter). Walter and I talked about Halifax and whether or not it was the right thing to do; neither of us wanted a long-distance relationship for another year and things were going well. We would see if I could pick up a job in Halifax, and then decide. Accordingly, I had lined up a few interviews for the weekend while I was visiting Walter. I had nothing to lose. Plus, I liked the guy..a lot. :)
I was thrilled to see him in Halifax - I had called a very good friend of mine for fashion advice. I live in my baggy sweats and hoodies - it's incredibly comfortable and usually I don't really care about what people think. But, I was slowly reforming my ways and this was a weekend that mattered to me. I needed advice on the best combinations in my wardrobe to be able to pack in the most minimalistic yet fashionable way possible. Clearly, if I was taking the time to figure out what I wanted to wear, I like this guy... ;)
I have a soft spot for men in uniform - I don't know many women who don't. Army uniforms, especially. Yum. I was expecting to take a cab from the airport to meet up with Walter as he mentioned that he was busy at work and wanted to wrap things up before I arrived. One of his friends (I found out later) had threatened to smack him upside the head if he didn't pick me up, so as I made my way down the stairs to the arrivals area, there was Walter, all handsome-looking in his fabulous army uniform!!
He had scouted out some gluten-free places for me to eat and we grabbed a quick bite before my first interview. I had two lined up that afternoon and one for the morning before I left. The first two schools ended up loving me, but sadly had no openings at the time. The third school also (thankfully) loved me and could likely only offer a part time opening. We would see where things went.
Walter had invited his friends over for a party that evening - he was very excited to introduce me to everyone. It was clear that he spoken a lot about me to his friends. I wasn't sure how I felt about that as we had made a decision to keep things fairly low key until we were sure things would work out. It was a fun night, though. His friends were fantastic and we had a lovely evening.
We went to brunch the next morning with his friends, who were fantastic. Such sweethearts. If these are the types of people he is good friends with, then I don't have much to worry about! :)
Walter ran his 10k race and a friend of his came with me to cheer him on. I had t-shirts made that said "Go Walter, Go!" on them as a fun surprise. He was thrilled and we had a blast walking around in the sun from one point of the race course to the other. Thankfully, we caught Walter as he was about to cross the finish line and to my surprise, he looked like he was ready to pass out! He had been telling me about his rigorous training schedule for the race, but I guess the ups/downs of the actual course took it's toll on him... turned out that he had beat his previous time by 25 seconds, so he was happy! :)
We met up with some other friends of his the next morning for brunch at Cora's. I decided to wear my Lululemons with a nice top, long sweater and ballet flats. It was dressing up the lulu's, which fit well and overall, the outfit worked. I was still new to Lulu (I've always been a hardcore Roots fan) so was sharing my excitement of having a pair of very comfy pants that can be dressed up and down. Walter wasn't thrilled about my excitement because he "would've rather that [I] had worn jeans to brunch". Oh.
Did I hear you right? Did you just say what I think you said? Really? You would rather that I had worn jeans?
I tried to drop the issue. 'Don't start a fight now, Anika, it's not worth it', I kept telling myself. I couldn't help it though - when I get annoyed, I go quiet and he knew something was wrong. After awhile, I finally gathered the courage to confront him on it and explain that I had spent quite a bit of time putting together my wardrobe and that I didn't think it was fair for him to say that he would've preferred if I had worn jeans. My attire was perfectly fine and we were just going to Cora's!
I mostly got over it - he apologized and said that it wasn't what he meant. He just didn't think that Lulu's were as versatile as I was pointing them out to be. Fine. Small issue, move on. Keep an open mind.
As would have been expected, there were some intimate moments during the weekend. It was nice to be held after such a long time and to feel the comfort of being in someone's arms. I discovered, however, that Walter had never manscaped in his life. One of the many Skype conversations we'd had was about relative deal breakers. One of mine, was a hairy bum. Just don't like thinking about. I know, it's common, but there are so many ways to rectify that. Walter had told me that it wasn't an issue and that he was glad that he had inherited the non-hairy genes from his parents. Brilliant! Not the case, however. Keep an open mind. He had lied to me and I felt slightly betrayed. Not that, in reality, I would have ever ended a relationship over something so little (because it can easily be fixed), but lying was not acceptable. So, lies and no manscaping (of any kind). Both gross. (Keep an open mind.) So I explained that I wasn't happy with the lie (he apologized and tried to explain), nor with the manscaping (which upset him). If he can tell me that he prefers that I wear jeans, I sure as heavens can tell him that I prefer some sort of maintenance in the hair department. It was as if he was wearing a rug from the waist down. Gross. He eventually acknowledged and accepted my points, which helped with the theme of keeping an open mind!
As I packed to head back to the UK, we quickly realized that we were running late. I asked him throw the last few things into my bag while I finished getting a few other things ready. One of the items that needed to go in was my computer cable. We were under a time crunch but that didn't seem to bother Walter. Being a military man, he took his time to meticulously wrap the cable before throwing it into the bag. He drove exactly 100km/hr the entire way to the airport and I was incredibly lucky for the lack of traffic and checked in my bags with one minute to spare. Phew! As I boarded the plane after saying goodbye (and knowing that I would see him only three weeks later in the UK), I remember the computer cable and thought "Who does that??". Oh well, Anika, keep an open mind!
Friday, May 20, 2011
The XO
Walter is a military lawyer. Perfectly suited to his character. He doesn't break any rules and is fabulous at enforcing them. And, he likes everything in perfect order. (I don't know what I was thinking with me being the most random, squiggly-personality-type person...)
Anyway, he was having a very stressful week at work about two weeks before I was meant to visit. I could do very little from afar besides our evening conversations, so I decided it was time to send something to his workplace to cheer him up. Chocolate strawberries would do the trick!
I arranged the delivery and wrote a note:
Dear Major Walter,
Just wanted to make you smile!
take care,
xo
To ensure it would be a surprise, I looked up the address online and sent them off.
When the strawberries arrived, they somehow ended up in the wrong office...the Chief's office! The Chief brought them down to Walter's office and grilled him on who is 'xo' (executive officer, second in command) was. Walter was hazed for awhile and before I knew it, I was known in his office as 'the XO'.
Anyway, he was having a very stressful week at work about two weeks before I was meant to visit. I could do very little from afar besides our evening conversations, so I decided it was time to send something to his workplace to cheer him up. Chocolate strawberries would do the trick!
I arranged the delivery and wrote a note:
Dear Major Walter,
Just wanted to make you smile!
take care,
xo
To ensure it would be a surprise, I looked up the address online and sent them off.
When the strawberries arrived, they somehow ended up in the wrong office...the Chief's office! The Chief brought them down to Walter's office and grilled him on who is 'xo' (executive officer, second in command) was. Walter was hazed for awhile and before I knew it, I was known in his office as 'the XO'.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
First visit
I was coming back from the UK for my mum's birthday and Walter figured that since I traveling across the pond, he might as well travel a couple of hours so that we could meet in person! I was very excited!
We agreed to meet at a coffee shop. He had picked up a teddy bear at the airport before leaving, which I thought was cute. His shirt was tucked in, which I thought was hilarious (and nerdy cute)! Since his brother, sister in-law and nephews lived very close to where we were, he wanted to stop by and say hello. I didn't think much of it and figured it would be a nice opportunity to meet part of his family. It didn't cross my mind at the time, that it was relatively quick to be meeting family, but considering I'm a sucker for small children, it was nice to play with his nephews for a little while.
We enjoyed a long walk through downtown. He held my hand...we flirted...it was all good fun. We even stole our first kiss behind a cement wall down a deserted walkway! Things were falling into place. He treated me well, was respectful, was funny, was considerate and kind...it was great!
I had met Walter's dad, when I went to pick up Walter from the train station the next day. He was a lovely man. Water is one of three boys, but his two older brothers are quite a bit older than him (they're my parents' age). This meant that his dad was my grandpa's age! Both of his parents, in fact, were absolutely charming. Great guy and his fabulous family? Really?!?! :)
My mum wasn't keen on talking about any boys at this point, considering the fight had only ended a few weeks prior. But, if I was going to date anyone going forward, there was no way that I was going to hide it. My parents were going to know about about it and know everything about him - good and bad. And so, I told my mum about Walter. She agreed that I could invite him over for dinner so that the family could meet him. I wanted everything to be in the open, and this was the fastest and easiest way to do this. Fantastic!
Dinner went well. My siblings knew about the shirt-tucking-in-syndrome, so my sister decided to tease Walter throughout the evening. When Walter spoke to my parents, he spoke in perfect Gujarati (which made me think that he was trying really hard, but it was probably just the nerves of meeting my family for the first time).
All-in-all, it was a lovely weekend and I agreed to fly back to see him for the May long weekend, in Halifax, which was five weeks away.
Walter was leaving town a day before me, so I dropped him off to the airport. As he was leaving, I gave him a stack of cards that I had written - there was one for every week that we wouldn't see each other. It was something small to make him smile each week. It was a nice feeling... :)
We agreed to meet at a coffee shop. He had picked up a teddy bear at the airport before leaving, which I thought was cute. His shirt was tucked in, which I thought was hilarious (and nerdy cute)! Since his brother, sister in-law and nephews lived very close to where we were, he wanted to stop by and say hello. I didn't think much of it and figured it would be a nice opportunity to meet part of his family. It didn't cross my mind at the time, that it was relatively quick to be meeting family, but considering I'm a sucker for small children, it was nice to play with his nephews for a little while.
We enjoyed a long walk through downtown. He held my hand...we flirted...it was all good fun. We even stole our first kiss behind a cement wall down a deserted walkway! Things were falling into place. He treated me well, was respectful, was funny, was considerate and kind...it was great!
I had met Walter's dad, when I went to pick up Walter from the train station the next day. He was a lovely man. Water is one of three boys, but his two older brothers are quite a bit older than him (they're my parents' age). This meant that his dad was my grandpa's age! Both of his parents, in fact, were absolutely charming. Great guy and his fabulous family? Really?!?! :)
My mum wasn't keen on talking about any boys at this point, considering the fight had only ended a few weeks prior. But, if I was going to date anyone going forward, there was no way that I was going to hide it. My parents were going to know about about it and know everything about him - good and bad. And so, I told my mum about Walter. She agreed that I could invite him over for dinner so that the family could meet him. I wanted everything to be in the open, and this was the fastest and easiest way to do this. Fantastic!
Dinner went well. My siblings knew about the shirt-tucking-in-syndrome, so my sister decided to tease Walter throughout the evening. When Walter spoke to my parents, he spoke in perfect Gujarati (which made me think that he was trying really hard, but it was probably just the nerves of meeting my family for the first time).
All-in-all, it was a lovely weekend and I agreed to fly back to see him for the May long weekend, in Halifax, which was five weeks away.
Walter was leaving town a day before me, so I dropped him off to the airport. As he was leaving, I gave him a stack of cards that I had written - there was one for every week that we wouldn't see each other. It was something small to make him smile each week. It was a nice feeling... :)
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
I heart Skype
The first 12 days of my relationship with Walter blossomed on Skype. I would usually log on around dinner and he would keep me company. Before we knew it, he had also had dinner with me, online, several hours later and our conversations would keep going until I had to either get to rowing, or catch a quick cat-nap before getting to class! It was ridiculous (in a good way!).
It had been a long time since I had stayed up nights talking to anyone. Walter and I talked about meeting up - I was heading back home in a few days and he happened to still be off of work, so he scheduled a trip home so that we could meet up. Cheek to cheek smiles for me!
I was scared. Here was a guy who was seemingly perfect. We had some pretty frank discussions leading up to this point. He made time for me, treated me well, said the right things. Could this really be happening? It was too soon and too quick to figure it out, but all the signs pointed in the right direction.
Only 48 hours until I'd meet this man who had easily charmed me into believing that we were right for each other! 48 hours...
It had been a long time since I had stayed up nights talking to anyone. Walter and I talked about meeting up - I was heading back home in a few days and he happened to still be off of work, so he scheduled a trip home so that we could meet up. Cheek to cheek smiles for me!
I was scared. Here was a guy who was seemingly perfect. We had some pretty frank discussions leading up to this point. He made time for me, treated me well, said the right things. Could this really be happening? It was too soon and too quick to figure it out, but all the signs pointed in the right direction.
Only 48 hours until I'd meet this man who had easily charmed me into believing that we were right for each other! 48 hours...
Sunday, May 15, 2011
A new chapter
When I finally decided that I could no longer fight for Joe, I joined eHarmony. I created a basic profile and sifted through the hundreds of matches that instantly appeared.
Walter and I exchanged the standard communication messages on eharmony. He seemed alright. Pictures were okay, profile was alright and answers were fine. I was intrigued, but not crazily interested. Just enough to start email communication. As we exchanged emails, my interest was increasingly piqued. Here was a smart, tall, gujarati-speaking, vegetarian, seemingly down-to-earth Canadian guy. This was GREAT!!!
We agreed to talk on Skype and I was nervous. It was 1am, and I had been working on my thesis for most of the evening. I wasn't sure I'd make a good first impression at that hour. I was already in my pyjamas and was just about ready for bed. But, I figured that if he didn't like me in that state, then we stood no chance. So, we skyped.
To my surprise, he was much better looking in person (phew!!!). We managed to talk for a few hours before I had to get to bed. It was such a nice feeling! I had found someone other than Joe that I could hold a conversation with for hours! And, he didn't care that I was in my sweatpants and hoodie! Fantastic!
We arranged skype dates for the two days that followed. And the day after, and the day after that.... it was helpful that he was on leave from work for two weeks and I was working through my thesis. So, we both had flexible schedules and found a lot of time to talk. In fact, we were talking for about 10 hours a day, it was ridiculous! Looking back, I can't even tell you what the conversations were about. Life, religion, politics, and nothing.
A few small flags came up, but nothing too crazy. I made fun of him for tucking in his t-shirts (into shorts or jeans or whatever he was wearing), but that's all I had found so far. My friends had always criticized me for being too picky and never giving anyone other than Joe a chance. I was determined to give Water a fair chance.
It was interesting. Only a few weeks after deciding to end the fight with my parents, I found this seemingly perfect guy. Taller (Joe was shorter), same culture, same religion, same language, similar interests, well educated... could it be that I had found a guy that fit both my and my parents' criteria??? :)
Walter and I exchanged the standard communication messages on eharmony. He seemed alright. Pictures were okay, profile was alright and answers were fine. I was intrigued, but not crazily interested. Just enough to start email communication. As we exchanged emails, my interest was increasingly piqued. Here was a smart, tall, gujarati-speaking, vegetarian, seemingly down-to-earth Canadian guy. This was GREAT!!!
We agreed to talk on Skype and I was nervous. It was 1am, and I had been working on my thesis for most of the evening. I wasn't sure I'd make a good first impression at that hour. I was already in my pyjamas and was just about ready for bed. But, I figured that if he didn't like me in that state, then we stood no chance. So, we skyped.
To my surprise, he was much better looking in person (phew!!!). We managed to talk for a few hours before I had to get to bed. It was such a nice feeling! I had found someone other than Joe that I could hold a conversation with for hours! And, he didn't care that I was in my sweatpants and hoodie! Fantastic!
We arranged skype dates for the two days that followed. And the day after, and the day after that.... it was helpful that he was on leave from work for two weeks and I was working through my thesis. So, we both had flexible schedules and found a lot of time to talk. In fact, we were talking for about 10 hours a day, it was ridiculous! Looking back, I can't even tell you what the conversations were about. Life, religion, politics, and nothing.
A few small flags came up, but nothing too crazy. I made fun of him for tucking in his t-shirts (into shorts or jeans or whatever he was wearing), but that's all I had found so far. My friends had always criticized me for being too picky and never giving anyone other than Joe a chance. I was determined to give Water a fair chance.
It was interesting. Only a few weeks after deciding to end the fight with my parents, I found this seemingly perfect guy. Taller (Joe was shorter), same culture, same religion, same language, similar interests, well educated... could it be that I had found a guy that fit both my and my parents' criteria??? :)
Saturday, May 14, 2011
The Fight.
I had spent an amazing New Year's with Joe. We only had a couple of days together and I hadn't seen him since Paris (almost a year and a half earlier). Things hadn't changed between us - everything was fun, easy, light-hearted and wonderful!
When Joe headed back to Asia, and I to the UK, we did talk about the difficulty of knowing that we couldn't be together and wondered if that would ever change. I explained that I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Nothing would ever change my parents' mind so it was really whether or not I could fight them on the issue, and what I thought the possibilities were that they would even remotely accept what I was proposing.
Joe and I had some incredibly long, and difficult, conversations in the following month before we decided that I would tell my parents. He wanted me to move to Singapore, I wanted him to move to the UK. A lot of change was coming for both of us. Nothing good could come of fighting, but I had to try. And, so I did.
I had my brother and sister come with me for moral support as I broke the news to my dad. He had been expecting it - I had seen him in the UK a couple of weeks prior and had planted the seed that we needed to talk about boys. He figured that I was going to talk about Joe.
The conversation was not pleasant. I stayed quiet for the most part and tried to let my dad do the talking. It was emotional and heated and I would like to think that he didn't really mean most of what he said that morning. He was disappointed and hurt. He was angry. I didn't understand. I could only sit there and acknowledge his feelings and try to explain (with a lot of help from my siblings) that in fact, this was not a malicious act against my parents, rather someone I had met, gotten along with, fallen in love with and no matter how hard we had both tried, there was a bond there that couldn't be ignored. That didn't matter. He was Muslim. My dad knew very little about Joe, except for his name. He didn't want or need to know anymore. That was it. The barrier was up and it was barely going to come down, if at all.
Later that afternoon, it was evident that my dad was trying to see things from my perspective. Our conversations continued for a month. With each conversation, I could hear that he had spent many nights lying awake, thinking about Joe and I. He sounded exhausted and worn out. He was starting to treat it like a corporate error that required a PR campaign to put a positive spin on the situation, to help mitigate the community's reaction. He knew that he couldn't convince the community, his family, my mom, or truly himself, that this was okay and acceptable. He was torn between my happiness and everything else he had ever known.
What else could I expect? It was far better than my mom's reaction, which involved a lot of yelling, name-calling, guilt-tripping...everything you would expect from a disappointed and distraught parent. Could I blame them? Not really. They didn't know any better. In their minds, they were dealing with this in the best way possible. They were doing what they knew to be right.
And I? Well, as usual for Joe and I, timing was not on our side. His best friend was going through a very rough time and was staying with Joe. Sharing a tiny bachelor apartment with your best friend means that you have little privacy, which for me meant that Joe had limited time to talk to me. Unfortunately for both of us, this lack of time (in which an 8-hour time difference was far from helpful), meant that I was basically fighting this battle on my own. I wasn't prepared for that nor was I sure I could handle it.
I can't blame my parents for their reaction - it was expected. It's all they knew. I knew it wouldn't be easy. I just hoped it would be easier than it was. I hoped they would, on some level, understand. I hoped they would have a more open mind.
And I wasn't sure I was strong enough to face it. I was mad at Joe for making me choose between him and my family. I was mad at my parents for making me choose between my family and Joe. Why did I have to choose? Why couldn't the world just be the happy place I wanted it to be without prejudice and bitterness?
I've always had adventurous dreams in which I am the good guy, being chased by bad guys with guns. Not far from an action movie of sorts. Adrenaline filled dreams of being chased through alleyways, dodging bullets, etc. I usually find them quite amusing when I wake up (I clearly watch too many cops/robbers shows). Throughout the fight with my parents, sleep eluded me. When I did sleep, my dreams were all over the place, reliving the arguments and discussions had with my parents about Joe. Then, one night, I had another adventure dream. I remember it well - I was once again being chased down tight alleyways and around corners and, finally, I had found a way to outsmart the people chasing me. I cut them off around a corner and for the first time I dreamt that I had a gun in my hand and had it pointing at the people chasing me. What startled me the most, and had me wake up in cold sweats, was the fact that on the other side of that gun, stood my parents. The fight for Joe had to end. Now. And I had no way of explaining that to Joe. How would he understand?
I did what I thought would be the right thing. I did what would make everyone except two people happy. Two people's broken hearts is better than many more...right? I figured I didn't count, considering I was the one making the decision, so really, it was only Joe's heart that I was breaking. And I had convinced myself that it was the right thing. I reminded myself of all the things he had done wrong over the years to make myself feel better. I convince myself everyday that we just weren't meant to be. Our timing was never right. And I never told Joe about the dream nor all of the details of the fight. Just that we couldn't have been meant to be.
A year later, I still get annoyed thinking back at it. The same questions always come up - will I find someone else who made me as happy as Joe did? Did I make the right decision? Will it all work out? Perhaps it's just the place that I'm in now where those questions come up more frequently than at other times. How long would it take me to stop second guessing and get over a decision that (as someone rightly pointed out) wasn't mine to begin with? I wasn't sure...
My hope is that I will never resent my parents, and that Joe will never resent me. I can't blame my parents for how they reacted - it's all they know and in their minds, they are doing everything they can to protect me. I will never understand it, but I have to accept who they are. As for Joe, I'm not sure he will ever forgive me. I'm not sure he'll ever realize just how bad things were and how much I truly needed him to be by my side (and not 8 time zones away!). I made the decision. I chose. And, I will live with the consequences...for better or worse! My fingers are crossed, for better!
It was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved before - and I remind myself of that each morning. I have to...
When Joe headed back to Asia, and I to the UK, we did talk about the difficulty of knowing that we couldn't be together and wondered if that would ever change. I explained that I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Nothing would ever change my parents' mind so it was really whether or not I could fight them on the issue, and what I thought the possibilities were that they would even remotely accept what I was proposing.
Joe and I had some incredibly long, and difficult, conversations in the following month before we decided that I would tell my parents. He wanted me to move to Singapore, I wanted him to move to the UK. A lot of change was coming for both of us. Nothing good could come of fighting, but I had to try. And, so I did.
I had my brother and sister come with me for moral support as I broke the news to my dad. He had been expecting it - I had seen him in the UK a couple of weeks prior and had planted the seed that we needed to talk about boys. He figured that I was going to talk about Joe.
The conversation was not pleasant. I stayed quiet for the most part and tried to let my dad do the talking. It was emotional and heated and I would like to think that he didn't really mean most of what he said that morning. He was disappointed and hurt. He was angry. I didn't understand. I could only sit there and acknowledge his feelings and try to explain (with a lot of help from my siblings) that in fact, this was not a malicious act against my parents, rather someone I had met, gotten along with, fallen in love with and no matter how hard we had both tried, there was a bond there that couldn't be ignored. That didn't matter. He was Muslim. My dad knew very little about Joe, except for his name. He didn't want or need to know anymore. That was it. The barrier was up and it was barely going to come down, if at all.
Later that afternoon, it was evident that my dad was trying to see things from my perspective. Our conversations continued for a month. With each conversation, I could hear that he had spent many nights lying awake, thinking about Joe and I. He sounded exhausted and worn out. He was starting to treat it like a corporate error that required a PR campaign to put a positive spin on the situation, to help mitigate the community's reaction. He knew that he couldn't convince the community, his family, my mom, or truly himself, that this was okay and acceptable. He was torn between my happiness and everything else he had ever known.
What else could I expect? It was far better than my mom's reaction, which involved a lot of yelling, name-calling, guilt-tripping...everything you would expect from a disappointed and distraught parent. Could I blame them? Not really. They didn't know any better. In their minds, they were dealing with this in the best way possible. They were doing what they knew to be right.
And I? Well, as usual for Joe and I, timing was not on our side. His best friend was going through a very rough time and was staying with Joe. Sharing a tiny bachelor apartment with your best friend means that you have little privacy, which for me meant that Joe had limited time to talk to me. Unfortunately for both of us, this lack of time (in which an 8-hour time difference was far from helpful), meant that I was basically fighting this battle on my own. I wasn't prepared for that nor was I sure I could handle it.
I can't blame my parents for their reaction - it was expected. It's all they knew. I knew it wouldn't be easy. I just hoped it would be easier than it was. I hoped they would, on some level, understand. I hoped they would have a more open mind.
And I wasn't sure I was strong enough to face it. I was mad at Joe for making me choose between him and my family. I was mad at my parents for making me choose between my family and Joe. Why did I have to choose? Why couldn't the world just be the happy place I wanted it to be without prejudice and bitterness?
I've always had adventurous dreams in which I am the good guy, being chased by bad guys with guns. Not far from an action movie of sorts. Adrenaline filled dreams of being chased through alleyways, dodging bullets, etc. I usually find them quite amusing when I wake up (I clearly watch too many cops/robbers shows). Throughout the fight with my parents, sleep eluded me. When I did sleep, my dreams were all over the place, reliving the arguments and discussions had with my parents about Joe. Then, one night, I had another adventure dream. I remember it well - I was once again being chased down tight alleyways and around corners and, finally, I had found a way to outsmart the people chasing me. I cut them off around a corner and for the first time I dreamt that I had a gun in my hand and had it pointing at the people chasing me. What startled me the most, and had me wake up in cold sweats, was the fact that on the other side of that gun, stood my parents. The fight for Joe had to end. Now. And I had no way of explaining that to Joe. How would he understand?
I did what I thought would be the right thing. I did what would make everyone except two people happy. Two people's broken hearts is better than many more...right? I figured I didn't count, considering I was the one making the decision, so really, it was only Joe's heart that I was breaking. And I had convinced myself that it was the right thing. I reminded myself of all the things he had done wrong over the years to make myself feel better. I convince myself everyday that we just weren't meant to be. Our timing was never right. And I never told Joe about the dream nor all of the details of the fight. Just that we couldn't have been meant to be.
A year later, I still get annoyed thinking back at it. The same questions always come up - will I find someone else who made me as happy as Joe did? Did I make the right decision? Will it all work out? Perhaps it's just the place that I'm in now where those questions come up more frequently than at other times. How long would it take me to stop second guessing and get over a decision that (as someone rightly pointed out) wasn't mine to begin with? I wasn't sure...
My hope is that I will never resent my parents, and that Joe will never resent me. I can't blame my parents for how they reacted - it's all they know and in their minds, they are doing everything they can to protect me. I will never understand it, but I have to accept who they are. As for Joe, I'm not sure he will ever forgive me. I'm not sure he'll ever realize just how bad things were and how much I truly needed him to be by my side (and not 8 time zones away!). I made the decision. I chose. And, I will live with the consequences...for better or worse! My fingers are crossed, for better!
It was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved before - and I remind myself of that each morning. I have to...
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