This is an excerpt from a story I have been writing about this man since he stumbled back into my life exactly a year ago. I feel so very lucky to have found love again in this life. I feel even luckier that it’s with him.
He showed up on a Wednesday on my front porch 20 years after we first met in a ceramics class he taught at the local museum. He, my handsome instructor, and me, his nervous student. The timing wasn’t right back then. But the (now) undisputed attraction and chemistry was there. It was magnetic. But I had someone I was seeing at the time. He met someone shortly after and our paths diverged for 20 years. Marriage. Kids…Life.
Last year, through the magic of Facebook, I reached out and sent a message to check in. “Thinking of you…How are you?” He responded by setting a date.
On the day he came to visit, he looked exactly the same as I remembered - handsome, chiseled, dimpled, with a head full of hair. His muscular arms wrapped around me when we nervously hugged in the threshold of my doorway. His body felt warm and good. He smelled delicious - simultaneously clean and masculine. I lost my breath in that moment, nervous from the anticipation of the day.
He came in that morning and we made nervous small talk. We got something to drink and sat cordially at the dining room table stumbling through conversation.
And then, like magic, we leaned into our first date. The words came out like a waltz. Stories spilled out of us that day, knitting together the holes in the fabric we left behind. Stories of his marriage breaking up. Stories of my broken relationships. Stories of parents and grandparents now gone. Stories of children and love and heartbreak… all stitched awkwardly together by the leftover shards of ribbon and yarn and remnants of who we once were and who we are now.
We went to the beach that afternoon, swimsuits and boogie board in tow. We flirted and floated our way through that day. We walked the beach and found sharks teeth and seashells. We passed gentle glances and lost ourselves in each other. He touched my arm. I felt dizzy. We drank beer on the beach like a couple of rebels. We never ever ran out of words. We melted into that long day like ice cream in July - a delicious mess.
We danced in the risk of each other, uncovering the hurt and pain and fear and shame that had been buried deep within us. Every shared breath between us felt like clean, clear water washing away the layers of thick, heavy, putrid, pluff mud that my soul had been buried under for years. I felt weightless around him - like floating in the salty sea, waves of joy tumbling and tossing me aimlessly around. I was uninhibited…overjoyed…full.
I waited a lifetime to find him and for him to find me, and yet I feel like we have known each other all along. Each story he tells me, I feel deeply connected to…almost like I am there – present in his memories, a part of his past. Each moment between us feels as new and familiar as anything I have felt in my life. It is comforting and comfortable to know someone like this. It’s incredible to trust someone so quickly. But the best gift is when they feel the same way, too, and you know it without it being spoken.
After a year, I can say this - don’t discount all your experiences with love because it comes in different forms at different times of life. All of it is important. Be patient and kind with your precious heart. And remember to look for someone who does the same for you.
I love you, JN. You make me happier than bacon and sausage.