Of Laughter and Forgetting
I am not a mushy person. I lean more toward sarcasm than sentimentalism. I don’t write “Things I Am Thankful For” posts at Thanksgiving. I don’t wax poetic about my gushy love for my daughters or my husband. I don’t often talk about how lucky I feel to be living this life. I am cringing at this rare exception before I even write it.
Once, many moons ago, I was trying desperately to not fall in love with Mr. A.
I had lost my previous serious boyfriend to suicide. I had only just begun to gather up the pieces and move on. Mr. A was leaving for China to teach English for a year. If ever there was a recipe for a relationship to be avoided, it was Mr. A and me at that point in time.
But as hard as I tried, Mr. A was worming his way into my heart. We spent a few lovely and angsty weeks together before he left. When it was time to say goodbye, I had steeled myself in preparation. After losing someone so close, goodbyes and being left behind were two of my biggest fears. I tried to be stoic. We hugged and I drove away.
Only, I didn’t. I drove around the block and sat watching Mr. A pack the last of his things into his car. Finally, he drove away. I assumed that was the last I would hear from him for a long time, or maybe forever. I was used to being left behind wishing for one more moment or one more message.
A few hours later, I was sitting morosely in my apartment when I heard a knock on the door. When I opened it, there was Mr. A looking rather sheepish.
“I can’t go yet.” he said “We need another night.”
His plane was leaving early the next morning from a city two hours away, but we stayed up late laughing and relieved to have a little more time. The next morning, we said goodbye again, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the day before.
That knock on the door was the beginning of the rest of our lives together.
I believe that one moment can change a life. That knock on the door changed mine. When Mr. A came back, it was exactly the right thing at exactly the right time. It gave me hope that my earlier premonition that Mr. A was The One might be possible, even as our lives were heading in opposite directions on opposite sides of the world.
Ever since that moment, whenever I am in doubt, the right choice has always been to close my eyes, push in all my chips and leap — as long as Mr. A is by my side. Our fates are entertwined, for better or worse. I couldn’t be luckier if I tried.
December 7th, 2007 at 4:46 am
Absolutely beautiful.
And if you don’t have a Christmas present for Mr. A. yet, this might be the best one he’s ever received.
Or even if you have.
December 7th, 2007 at 5:55 am
sweetie that was lovely. i actually got a little tearful and i’m pretty sarcastic too as you know, i don’t get all tearful often.
December 7th, 2007 at 10:59 am
Aaawwwww! That’s so sweet. The best sentimental stuff comes from those who don’t like to be sentimental.
December 7th, 2007 at 2:49 pm
Wow. Beautifully written. I love, love, LOVE, love stories.
December 7th, 2007 at 4:42 pm
I knew you were a mush at heart.
December 7th, 2007 at 4:43 pm
Cue the Big Fat Romantic Sigh of Sweetness.
December 7th, 2007 at 6:29 pm
quick! alert the internet police! some mushy woman took over Amber’s blog! Next thing you know, there will be ladybugs and matching silk outfits!!!
Seriously, that was very nice, and a totally different side of you.
December 8th, 2007 at 1:25 am
[*sniff!*]
December 8th, 2007 at 11:02 pm
That was very sweet. And mushy. I loved it.