Those sturdy walls I mentioned in my last blog, the ones I erected to protect my delicate heart… they have totally crumbled. One hundred percent.
I’ve been uber-mommying my boys all around town rocking out to sappy love songs. I think about my guy, and a smile shimmies across the entire bottom half of my face. The phone bleeps an incoming text message. I lose my breath for a quick second.
Adrenaline, dopamine, serotonin, all those intoxicating bonding chemicals, are in bloom.
Still, our relationship is far from simple. I don’t do simple.
For one thing, Julian doesn’t live in same state. In the beginning, I preferred the distance. Miles gave me boundaries. Two and half months later, I’d much rather see him every day.
Then there’s the timing of our connection. It’s not a meet-cute kind of story.
I am a divorcé who made some disastrous choices not so long ago. As a result of my not-so-brilliant actions, my two boys have been suspicious of any new man in my life, tiptoeing along the line of paranoia.
Then there’s my guy’s history. Julian is a recent widower.
There are rules for wayward divorcés and for men who have lost beautiful young wives. Julian’s former in-laws are upset, they think he is moving on too quickly. Finding someone he cares for is dishonoring their daughter. As for many in my wide circle of friends, they question my judgement of men in general. More than one suggested that before I let my guard down, I hire a private investigator to make sure my guy isn’t dangerous.
Julian didn’t wait the prescribed year of mourning. I didn’t perform any background checks. Neither of us followed directions.
That doesn’t mean I don’t share the concerns others have voiced. They were my own fears before anyone else spoke them out loud. Just writing about it, I can feel myself getting defensive, a sure sign I have doubts. I tell myself, I was in therapy for a year and I know how to spot a bad guy. I have the tools now to make wiser decisions. As for Julian, he took care of his wife who he loved for the two years she was dying. She wanted him to find someone else when she was gone. He deserves to have happiness. We both do.
Despite my doubts, my retorts are valid. Rules that don’t serve the greater good, are often best broken.
Julian has driven 700 plus miles round trip nearly every weekend and washed my dishes after I cooked. He’s helped fix broken stuff around my house, and cared for me when I got sick with the flu. I’ve taken him clothes shopping and helped him organize his new home.
He has spent time with my boys, and given me the opportunity to hang out with his sons. I have met his family. He’s met mine.
My cautious mother thinks he is a sweetheart. My leery bestie approves. Most importantly, both of my sons enjoy his company, and so far, his boys like me.
And so, I made a conscious choice to let my barricade tumble. Ours is a tangled path, with lots of tender debris. Just the same, love is winning.