The Story of Us: The month before.

August 22, 2009

After I returned from the trip to San Diego in May of 2009, I felt like I had gained a new grounding in my relationships – both good and bad – and in what I wanted out of my life.

I started giving the girls a chance to get to know me.

I stopped giving him so many chances.

I started giving myself a chance to be happy and content which had always, always come last.

I started conquering the anxiety as best I could. It wasn’t easy, but it was doable.

In the meantime, he had pretty much been slowly creeping out of the picture. He would come around every now and then, but not as often as he had before and I definitely didn’t try to force anything. I was feeling a sense of freedom and relief that I hadn’t felt in a while. A freedom and relief for my fragile heart that I had been dragging along to places it didn’t want to go.

Boys were coming and going.

I met a boy, Tucson, who smiled at me, two-stepped with me, kissed me goodnight, and then begged me to come visit him down in the southern part of Arizona. He texted but it quickly became brief and infrequent. And long distance.

I met another boy, Rusty Spur, who I met at a watering hole. He also smiled at me, two-stepped with me, and then texted me every day and night for about two weeks straight. However, the texts where he confessed he wanted to see me only came at about midnight. I gave in to his texts twice until I realized that he was only coming around after midnight. His intentions were made clear.

I met another boy, Army Boy, who I met on the plane going home back to Texas to see my brother graduate from high school. We had a great conversation over a free glass of wine, courtesy of Southwest Airlines, and I saw that he was just a nice, courteous, gentleman of a guy. Before I got off the plane, he got my number and promised to get in touch. He said he would love to visit Phoenix sometime and as an Army General, he travels often.

Two days later, as I was watching my baby brother walk across the stage at his high school graduation, I got a text from none other than Army Boy. We conversed this way for a few weeks. I wasn’t feeling it, but a friendly text here and there doesn’t hurt, right? Nothing’s wrong with being friendly to a stranger I met on a plane, right?

After all, over the first few weeks in June, I had independently and wholeheartedly come to the conclusion that I was content with my life.

I was content with living and working in Arizona for the time being.

I was content with not seriously dating anyone.

I was content with just having fun on the weekends and going out with girlfriends.

I was content with just me, my cat, and my cute little condo.

I was content with getting married after thirty and possibly just adopting if my biological clock had broken by the time I got around to having kids.

I was going to stop looking, stop searching, stop planning. I was just going to live my life day by day and not try to make anything happen.

Next thing I know, I get a text from Army Boy saying that he’s flying to Phoenix to golf and is hoping he can see me while he’s out here. I had a strong suspicion that he wasn’t coming for the golf. Most girls would be more than flattered that a guy would fly across the country to see them. I might be one of those girls if I hadn’t just met this guy on a plane two weeks prior and only communicated with him via text.

I was thinking of every excuse in the book to get out of it, but I finally decided to just suck it up and go for it. After all, split second decisions often lead to big surprises, and who knew if this guy was just that?
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