My English friend is working on getting a job transfer to come to live in California. And yes, he’s serious. And yes, so far there are green lights from his job and it looks as if it is going to happen within the next 6 months. We are still getting along great. We now have Skype set up so we can talk anytime for free and we do. He’s watching church online, growing in that area as well. And all is …well sometimes it feels like its too good to be true.
Last night I was feeling quite emotional. I had just received my divorce papers in the mail. I have yet to look at them. I had gone to church. I am behind on a project at work. And I guess I was just in a very down mood. He popped online as happy as ever but knew something was up. He showed a side of himself last night that melted my heart. Compassion, tenderness, patience and sensitivity. He listened and he reminded me that just because he was coming out, it didn’t mean that I had to have everything decided. He wanted to come to California so we could “date properly.” And yes, the fairytale continues.
Today he is presenting an award at the Tower of London. He sent me a picture of himself in his tuxedo looking as dapper as I’ve ever seen him. And I thought. Who wants to date? He is amazing. He’s well respected, he’s measured, he’s in love with the Lord and he lives life to the fullest. How in the world was I so lucky to have met him when I did?
And most people think that fairytales include Prince Charming who rescues the damsel in distress and then they live happily ever after. And there is an element of that romance in this for sure. But I can’t help to think that this is more than that. We talked last night about fighting, and what he’d do and what I’d do to hurt one another. How we would likely respond. And we agreed we really should get onto having our first argument soon to get that over with. We both want something real. Not the fairytale. We know we have faults and we will disappoint one another someday. And we both agreed that God will be first. If we keep things like that, we should be okay.
Leave perfection to the books with the stories that end before the real life begins. I want real life. I want what comes after the fairytale. And maybe, just maybe. Maybe.