Weathered Love

PLAN

I was getting frustrated. Months of planning and I was still at the same spot I was a few months ago. I was no closer to finding a dress for me or my bridesmaids, I was no closer to picking a florist, I was no closer to booking a band... It didn't help that Andrew was back at school and finishing up his law degree. Our conversations were sparse as it was. I didn't want to fill them with wedding planning. I just wanted to hear his voice and tell him how much I miss him. And have deep conversations. And hear about how his classes are going.

Now that he was taking finals exams to round out his summer classes, I was only getting occasional text messages from him. I felt like an addict being given too little drug. I was hardly sustained, and craved him more and more. This was an addiction I didn't want to get over. Although it definitely interrupted my life more than I wanted to admit.

I wasn't sure how common it was, but I was riding a wedding planning high. Everything was wonderful and beautiful and peaceful. To the point where it was hard for me to discern between vendors because of how much I loved all of their options. There were days where life suddenly came crashing down on me and I hated all the options at my feet. But those days were few and far between. For the most part, life was beautiful and amazing and wonderful. I loved what everyone had to offer and was having a hard time picking dresses, make-up artists, florists, bands, shoes, limos, and any other vendors, for the big day.

"You're in a chipper mood," Andrew noted one day. I had gone to the city to visit him because I missed him so much and he happened to have a few free hours to devote to me. I smiled in his direction, because it was all I could think to do. I leaned in for a kiss, which he happily gave up. "Scratch that," he continued in a desperate whisper. "You're in a very receptive mood," he pointed out.

I gave him a look that I hoped he understood to mean how much my body yearned for his, and yet, how much I wanted to honor the promise I had made for myself. The disappointment in his expression didn't escape me, but he backed off. Instead of convincing me to consummate our relationship prematurely, he took me to every public and free spot in New York City to occupy our time. We rounded off our night at a street festival. And despite being reminded of similar nights with Ivan, I felt no yearning. No mourning for joy that was lost. I was simply ecstatic that this wonderful man, who for some weird reason wanted to spend the rest of his life with plain old me, brought me to a place of such joy.

While walking back so that Andrew could drop me off at the subway, letting me go once more so that I'd have to wait an eternity to see him yet again, there was a violinist playing a sweet, sad song. One that was perfect for a slow dance between two lovers. Without having a chance to give Andrew a look so he could understand what I wanted, he twirled me and then brought me into him, slow dancing with me and giving me an understanding look. He knew how much I wanted to relish the moment. To have a picture-perfect movie moment where I danced with my soulmate under the night sky as a random stranger played the perfect song to the soundtrack of our romance.

All too soon, the musician's song changed to an upbeat and out-of-character song. Andrew smiled, swooped in, and gave me a passionate kiss. I melted into him, not caring what any spectators might think but instead just wishing this kiss could last forever. Alas, my wish was not to be granted. Andrew's lips separated from mine, and even if his lips would have remained locked to mine for eternity, the rest of him understood there was more to this life than that kiss.

As I rode home, I listened to "Are You With Me" on repeat for the entire ride, despite the lengthy commute and the negative ties to the song. Because the association it had with Andrew and with all the positive things in my life, despite the life-altering and halting moments I'd experienced, just made me want to connect with him as much as I possibly could. I missed him. And in a moment of pure vulnerability, I decided it was the perfect time to admit such to him through text. His response was almost immediate. "I miss you too". I almost cried in relief, wishing this fairytale would never end.