Monday, June 05, 2006

The Truth to the Skip in my Step

This blog is named “CNR” in direct reference to my dating life. However, as of late, it is the one topic that I’ve shied away from discussing.

I’m loathe to make it seem that there’s a revolving door on my heart, but in the time since separating from The Comfy PJs, there has been a series of unfortunate events.

Some were only passing fancies, better in theory than in reality. Others so fleeting that recording the who and wherefore would require more time and commitment than the affair itself. A couple have exploded with damaging results to all those involved. A few were embarrassing attempts to settle for what was there, instead of manifesting what I wanted. Many were just damn bad ideas!

And then fate dropped him on my plate. We’ve been in communication for over a year now, exchanging ideas and discussing passions. Friends and conversationalists with a dash of flirtation. That was until May… when Fate designed a moment in which we would both end up in the same place at the same time. 17 hours later, we’d both been hit by a truck. A pleasant but stunning drive-by, after which we each returned to our corners of the world unsure of what it meant, what happened, and where (if anywhere) this might go.

Struck as we were, we upped our level of correspondence and began to communicate on a nearly daily basis. Shortly thereafter, talk of plans for our next rendezvous had begun. But distance being the deterrent it can sometimes be, we were forced (much against our natures) to move slowly and to live entirely in the realm of words.

Our written missives are poetry (sometimes literally). Our phone calls long and diverse. From politics to passion; from geek moments to god concepts, we cover the gamut of interesting topics for hours on end. The brightest moments of my days were imbued with some essence of him. We finally declared it officially “a relationship” and began to focus on when we might live in the same geographic time zone.

*picture wavy ‘time passing’ cross-fade here*

Progress ahead a few weeks…

Perhaps my dearest friends were tired of hearing me whine about my long-distance boyfriend. Perhaps (and more likely) they are ecstatic and eager to encourage time spent with a man who is open, giving, communicative and clearly as high-energied and bouncy as myself. Whatever the motivation, unbeknownst to me, they began to Plot an unexpected reunion.

I add that link because I could not tell the tale nearly as well as its ingenious designer, the brilliant and lovely Amandarin. I can only tell you about how it feels to be on the receiving end of such a generous and amazing gift. 3 better friends a girl could not ask for, and a more luscious present simply doesn’t exist. I’m still walking on clouds of air, in that deliriously happy place that exists at the beginnings of new-found love.

So to my benefactors who created my own “Fantasy Island”, a million heart-felt thank yous. To my dearest Tag, although the miles separate us, the feel of your arms is still around me. And to my reading populace… Hope you don’t mind if I step away from my usual dry bitter humor and revel in the glorious discovery of sharing my heart again.

And to my father, in case he’s reading this blog right now... Try not to barf from the Cute, ok? *grin*

6 comments:

The Bizza said...

That is so incredibly awesome! You have the best friends in the world!

Anonymous said...

I need to say it one more time, your friends are amazing!

I love you!!

*kisses*

Yummyteece said...

Yes BJ.... I do. I really really do!

Amy The Writer said...

That is one of the best stories I've heard in a long time! Even better that it's true. Ever sweeter that it happened to you! Your friends rock and you do too! (I don't know why I'm rhyming.)

Anonymous said...

I just stumbled across your blog. How nice to be rewarded with such a sweet and romantic post. You must be a good friend to inspire such generosity from your friends.

Be careful, though. I met a wonderful man on a ski trip in Colorado. Two weeks of phone calls and we were in love. 3 months later, he had moved to Irvine to be with me. It was only the 4th time I’d ever met him in person. 3 months after that, we got married.

It was a mistake. Day to day living showed flaws that we hadn’t seen on the phone or e-mails. He resented me for making him leave Colorado. I felt obligated to him for making him move. After 10 miserable years, I finally had the guts to kick him out last year. We barely speak now when he picks up the kids.

I’m not saying you're love won’t work. I’m just saying you should take it slow. You don’t say when you met in May, but the longest you could have known him is a month. Don’t hurry into anything drastic, like one of you moving. The rush of new love fades, and you don’t want to be stuck like I was.

May your story have a happy ending. God bless.

Anonymous said...

Ah well...in every Party there is a pessimist drunkard commie who beats her kids. Don't blame Cheryll.Or worry about her well being. She has a hot flaming crucifix stowed tightly away in her nether regions. So she is happy. If thats someone you know? My apologies...but for best comfort, tell her that the, Journal for Bitter Womens Solutions, recommend turning that thing the other way around.
As far as YOUR happiness?
if you asked yerself
it is Right? when it is Right?
and if you responded
NOW
Sounds too me like it is definately
Right.
So whats not right?
nothin as far as i can see...so
Kiss yer friends. Kiss yer man deeper.
Here's a toast too a great event! And the belief that we DO gain something from this online "blogiverse"
I know I did. best too you both!