6 years ago I met the love of my life. Only I didn’t know it at the time. He was sweet, kind, romantic, all the things I wanted one day but didn’t want THEN. You see, I was recently out of a long term relationship with someone I thought I was going to marry and one day BAM, I wasn’t.
I walked away. And he came back.
Blah blah blah, 5 years later…
Ok, I kid. My story is much more complicated than that, and for my faithful readers who don’t know me personally, I think you deserve to know a little bit about my world.
At the time I met E I was a single mom with a 3 year old struggling to make ends meet. Sure, I had a decent job, but dropping your child off at daycare every day so you could make money to put a roof over your head is emotionally struggling. My boyfriend had left me 8 months before, and while the mourning period was supposedly over (or as some people told me, should have been) I was still hurting, but ignoring all of it just to get out of bed in the morning. E ended up being too much for me. I felt smothered. He was moving out of province for work and it was my perfect escape from something that just didn’t feel so perfect-for-me at the time.
And you know what? I missed him. It didn’t stop me from dating… but it did make me realize that life could go on without my Ex and that I was able to open up to someone else. While truly not fair to him really, I was dating when he moved back 4 months later and stuck in an ever-so-awkward situation since I had failed to mention that to him on the numerous times we chatted while he was gone *sigh*.
In my desperate attempt to be casual, I introduced him to a close friend and not-so-subtly suggested they get together. I’ll never forget the look on his face, but he handled himself well and took me up on my offer. He knew what he was doing. In his mind, he was going to pay me back for being a coward and was going to go out with this friend of mine to show me exactly what I was missing.
And you know what? I missed him. For a few weeks I would watch them together, stubbornly convincing myself I was happy for both of them (and believing it!), while brushing off the comments from other people. I WAS OK with it I kept saying with a smile. This friend opened up to me repeatedly about things too; their dates, conversations, sex, even their issues. I was the supportive one to both of them…and while I don’t regret it, looking back now I sure realize how difficult I made it for myself.
Months went by before we talked about the elephant in the room, but both E and I realized that there was still chemistry between us. Things had broken up between the two of them quite recently, and so we decided to give it another go. I chose to let my friend know first, thinking that she deserved to know what was going on from me, and while it was gingerly accepted, it was accepted. It only took a few days for her though, and she chose to end our friendship. I regret that.
About a year and a half into our relationship things began to change. It’s funny, but I remember thinking how lucky I was to be in a relationship with someone who I still felt sparks with after a year. That this was SO different than my past relationships, and while I am sure this is how it was supposed to be, it never had been with me. This was my sign that I was with the person I was meant to be with. But again, they started to change… and it felt like my world was crashing. E began to slowly turn into someone I almost didn’t recognize. It wasn’t dramatic, or even a complete switch, but a gradual decline in personality traits that I had grown to love. When these changes are so subtle and so gradual, you don’t notice them right away… but slowly over time my life took on a whole new direction, and one that made me miserable. E didn’t work, didn’t want to work, didn’t want to help around the house, didn’t want to get up out of bed. Again, all this was gradual… but it eventually turned into the worst-case-scenario where I felt that he was depressed and needed help.
On Easter Sunday of 2009, I was woken up by violent shaking next to me; E was in the throes of a Grand Mal seizure. I had never seen one before, and did not immediately recognize what was happening, but I knew enough to call 911. The hospital ended up releasing him that night with only an explanation that “everyone ha a seizure in their lifetime”. E was to go on and suffer through 2 more seizures; one when he was by himself (This terrifies me to this day) and one in the company of family, before an MRI was scheduled.
During this time, we were separating. I had had enough, and he had had enough of me. The day of the MRI I had actually refused to take him because I was so upset with him. But what happened next changed both of our lives forever.
The Sunday evening following the MRI, after waiting nearly 8 hours in the Emergency room at Royal Colombian Hospital, we were told by the Chief of Neurosurgery that E had a 7cm by 5cm tumor in his brain that would need to be operated on immediately. He was to be admitted that day and fit in to the surgery room schedule. I will never forget that moment for the rest of my life. There weren’t any immediate tears and no one spoke even thought the silence felt deafening. We left the hospital to grab some food before he was admitted and we made some phone calls, but we barely spoke to each other.
4 long and grueling days later they rolled him away on that hospital bed and I crumbled.
You know, it’s always nice to hear that people think you are strong, but I always have my stock answer: “Hey, it’s your life, you get up and you do what you have to do. It’s not about being strong.” Words cannot begin to describe this day, June 11th 2009, but I CAN tell you that it will never be erased from my memory and it will always serve to remind me that I can get through anything; that E can survive anything, our family can hold together through everything.
It was a long summer. One of healing; physically and mentally, and most of all, love. It took months before we ready to talk about what we went through together, and even longer to begin to rebuild the relationship that we knew we could have, but we are getting there. We still argue, we still get frustrated with each other for all the same reasons, and we still say things to each other we don't mean. But every night before we go to bed we say I love you, and every morning when we go our seperate ways we say I love you.
And now, almost 2 years later we are married with a a 9 year old daughter and a beautiful 6 month baby boy that represents so much to the three of us.
That is my story. It was tough to write that down.
I promise my next post will be funny. I owe you.
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