One year ago last weekend, I almost canceled our date and decided never to go out with him. He told me about his divorce and it hadn’t been as far away as I might have liked. I was afraid of rebounds or lingering attachments. My own healing process was still fresh in my mind. I almost called things off, but then I didn’t. What harm could one date do anyway, right? One year ago today, I met him for brunch. We were the same height. And he was totally cute and not funny looking. I wore a top I would later learn was flashing him a bit too much cleavage when I leaned forward. He didn’t stare.

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All of this rain makes me pensive. For some reason it always has. This morning I’m wondering if there’s really a problem at all. We’ve been spending almost every night together. I fall asleep touching him. I wake up and roll into his arms. We’ve done big things… shopping trips, festivals, wine tastings. And we’ve done little things… hikes, movies in, cooking dinner. He continues to invite me over. He assumes I will stay the night. He tells me he wants me there because he knows I need to hear it now. He reaches for me as we watch TV in the evening and nestles my head against his chest then leans over to kiss my forehead. And still I remember the way things used to be. When we were out in the sunshine and he would embrace me and kiss me passionately, not caring who saw. When he would tell me he loved me all the time. When we would go places and people could just see we were in love. When he would stand on every mountain both virtual and real and shout out that we were together.

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One year ago today, we were having such a good conversation over brunch that we moved downstairs to the bar area and kept talking. That date lasted about six hours. For the most part, I forgot he was short. And I wondered why I’d let our initial conversations be so stop and start. One year ago today, I was too cautious to imagine what might come of a six hour date with a cute guy who was my height. I did like that he picked up the tab and walked me to my car. I liked the hug he gave me as we said goodbye. I liked that he followed up with me immediately to ask me out again. But I was too careful to imagine what might happen next.

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What happened last week was a miscommunication. I still find hoping and believing to be difficult, and sometimes I react first and ask questions later. LC and I have done a lot of soul searching together in the past week or so. But I think it all boils down to something he said to me in the dark this last Thursday night, just before we fell asleep. Just like that, he told me his life is better because I’m in it. One year ago today I could never have imagined how much I would love him or how much I would want to remain in his life. But today, I know. And I do. And I will. One year ago today we started something great. Here’s hoping there will be many more years of looking back at it all fondly and looking forward to what may come.

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One year ago today, I met LC. I remember every detail of that date. I remember what we wore, what we ate, and what we drank. I remember how good the conversation was. I remember thinking maybe the height thing wasn’t so big a deal… maybe.I remember thinking he seemed pretty well adjusted about his divorce after all. I remember looking for what would be wrong this time that would make it not work. What I don’t remember is ever imagining that one year later we’d still be together. That height really wouldn’t be a big deal. That I would eventually be filled with hope. That we would be strong enough to overcome so many obstacles together. And yet, here we are.

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