In 4 years, 3 months, and 21 days time we have been through
In the beginning... we were both fragile, brittle, and a bit broken. He picked me up when I was down and I pulled him down when he would climb too high. I think back to the times when my family had yet to meet the love of my life... Me having been married at the age of 20 to my senior year boyfriend, and 4 years ago still awaiting court dates to finalize the divorce, and living on my own for the first time in my life, enjoying my new found UNcontrolled freedom... When our eyes first met, he took my breath away. The most incredibly attractive man I had shared a smile with, no way did he even notice me. A few weeks go by and we meet again. This time we speak, as we find ourselves alone in the back of a mutual friends' car while said friend was taking a crap in the local wally world. We were all headed to a show in the parking lot of our local Sam Goody (only music store in town) to watch my soon-to-be Ex husband and a good friend perform songs I had heard far too many times over. And a few that I hadn't heard before that were stabs at what an evil person I was for walking away. Wow... that was an entire lifetime ago. A part of my life I do not think of often. Back to the beginning of the present (and future). Back to the back of the car...we connected. He made me nervous with his smile, it sliced through me like a warm knife in butter. (it still does) He made me smile... showed me a little light in my dark world. And then he went with his friends, and I with mine. When I scanned through the small crowd of people, I noticed him face down on the ground. He is also quite the conversationalist when he is intoxicated. Then I watched his friends pick him up and carry him off to the car... not a small feat I must add considering he is a man of 6 feet 4 inches, and his friends we more comparable to my size (and this was my skinny phase of life....oh how I miss the skinny phase). Weeks went by before our paths crossed again. I had become smitten with a crazy ass lunatic that shaved his eyebrows and wore a techni-color zebra plush robe whenever he spent the night at my place... which was rather often. I was smitten, crazy ass lunatic was just a drunk who needed a place to rest his head and a body to hold to keep the room from swaying. We had fun for a few months, and then he found another place to rest his head. It broke me for a day or too, and Derek was there to tell me 'chin up'. Cheer-up butter-cup. He even wiped my tears away and took me for a midnight stroll. Perfect. He had already won over a piece of my heart. He listened. He cared. He had a girlfriend. In the days to follow he teased me with open invitations for a date... I never believed him, my self esteem was far too low to think HE could be interested in me. At one point he even stated "You pick the time and the place, and we have a date..." I thought about for weeks, and never actually came to a decision. We frequented the same bar and one particular evening he decided to escort me home after a long night of drinking... you know, just to ensure my safety. We nearly watched the sunrise that morning, just talking and listening to music...smoking on the incredible balcony of my apartment. These evenings happened a few times over the next few weeks, and I recall an evening when I told him that he need not walk home, he was welcome to stay. He was also welcome to sleep in my bed under the condition that he 'held me'... my bed, my rules. He became my cuddle buddy. Months went by before we shared our first kiss... that incredibly amazing wonderful delicious first kiss. As it turns out, that incredibly attractive stranger that caught my eye really COULD be interested in little ole me. That was the beginning:)
The day my love met my momma was the day that my dad's best friend died. My mom showed up at my house in hysterics, sobbing over the unbelievable loss of Tom... and Derek greeted her with a warm embrace. From that moment on, he had won a piece of her heart as well.
The first time he told me he loved me... we had been making out in the kitchen and he looked me in the eye and asked..."Have I told you that I love you yet?" to which I responded with a simple "No." He then gives me a sweet little kiss and says..."Don't worry, I will."
A couple of months later, I had to have out patient surgery to drain a bartholin cyst... very traumatic to have scalpels and needles in the vaginal area...even more so to have a cyst the size of a large egg covering the most private of parts. *shivers* Not a good moment in history. Needless to say, this put a stop to any 'hunk-a-hunk-a burnin' love activity for a few weeks... but he stayed by my side... and loved me for being me.
to be continued....