We’re at this lookout point near our hostel, it’s on a ledge overlooking the city and the view is stunning, but we’re not facing the lights sparkling in the night. I’m nose to nose with the most beautiful, incredible man and we’re devouring each other like we’ve been starving and just found ourselves at a feast.
Unbeknownst to each of us, we’ve been quietly drinking each other in from a distance for an entire week. Suddenly here we are, and in each other’s arms all of the things we’d hoped are coming true as we talk and kiss and talk some more. We only have a few hours. Is it too late, or are we lucky to have connected at all?
Regardless, we’re making the most of this moment, and the connection feels like something bigger than can be passed off as a simple romantic night with an exotic stranger in a foreign country. We eventually find our way back to a common room in the hostel, where we talk and touch until we can barely keep our eyes open.
As much as we don’t want morning to come, it inevitably does. He is also leaving Portugal, there’s no discussion of “what if” or “what now,” there are bags to be packed and flights to be caught and real lives waiting thousands of miles away.
We sit in the back of a taxi together, he holds my hand the entire drive, and doesn’t let go as we walk through the airport. At my gate he kisses me, even though his friend is with us, and then I turn and leave without a backward glance.
My journal entry from then is short on details: “Traveling is a bit of a head trip… Lisbon was brilliant. I met someone that I could see myself spending a LOT of time with, except for the fact that about 4 hours after we realized how compatible we are and how into each other we were, we had to part.”
You know what sucks? Wanting to spend time with someone, except they’re 13,155 kilometres away. And I REALLY wanted to spend time with Nick. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and I messaged him almost immediately after I returned to Canada to tell him as much.
Ten years ago international texting was exorbitantly expensive, so our best option for staying in touch ended up being Facebook messages and live chat. We may not have been able to hang out in person, but we made good use of our virtual hang out options. We messaged almost daily, long, detailed missives where we learned about each other’s lives, jobs, families, likes & dislikes, dreams & goals, and everything in between. When the 16 hour time difference allowed us to be online at the same time we would live chat, sometimes for hours. And every once in a while we would talk on the phone, so we could hear each other’s voice and laugh.
Often when you meet someone while traveling there is a strong immediate connection, but rarely is it lasting. But with Nick and I the spark not only remained, it exploded. The more we talked, the more we wanted to talk. The more we learned about each other, the more connected we became. We would each wake up to our respective morning and immediately check for a new message.
Weeks went by, and months passed. Our communications showed no sign of slowing down. Now we most often chatted about our day to day life, but with a mix of future desires – like my dream of having a lemon tree in the backyard, his goal of running his own business, places we would like to live, and destinations we wanted to travel through.
We often mentioned seeing each other again, but strangely that was one thing we didn’t get into specific detail about.
As time moved forward I became more and more certain that I wanted to find a way to be with Nick, however he was literally on the opposite side of the world, and I still had to live my daily life. I started a new job, I moved to a different house, I hung out with my friends. I felt somewhat stagnant and frustrated: I knew I didn’t want to stay in Calgary, I didn’t know what I wanted to do for work, and I had no answers as to what to do next. I did know that I wanted to move forward, I wanted to make some big life decisions and start feeling like I was accomplishing things in my 30’s. The wanderlust of my 20’s was fading away, I was ready for more – whatever that meant.by McKinnley
#8. I don’t need anyone else to complete me.
I’m rather independent, always have been. I don’t remember ever running to my Mom for comfort, I never got home-sick, I’ve been on my own since I was 18 – paying my own bills, doing my own laundry, taking care of myself. Sure, I’ve been lonely at times, and my life wouldn’t be complete without my friends and family, but I march to the beat of my own drum, with confidence. I may have been (still be?) stubborn, serious and shy, but I’ve never been clingy.
When my ex moved out 16 months ago I was surprised to realize that the thing I missed most was the codependence. Having someone around to share a meal with, to chat about my day, someone who would run to the grocery store with me, someone to play a game of Crib with and then snuggle up on the couch. I missed sharing my life. Cohabitating was actually one of my favourite things about that relationship, and I was broken when I lost it.
Fast forward to a year later and I’m finally comfortable again. I love being able to come in late at night, turn the light on in the bedroom, and read in bed for as long as I like. I’m delighted about not having to confirm my whereabouts and daily activities with anyone. I like making last minute plans, or no plans at all, or changing my mind and making different plans – because I can. I’m happy to spend my rare evenings off of work with my girl friends and boy friends, without feeling any guilt or pressure about ditching a partner. I enjoy eating dinner at 8pm. Or 5pm. Or having a bowl of popcorn at 9pm and calling that supper. My life is my own, well, except for Quinn, she demands feeding every 7 o’clock, but she’s a really good snuggler so I keep her around.
My life is full, and I am happy, comfortable, and doing whatever I damn well please whenever I damn well please – and the things I do are exciting and glorious and fill my spirit with joy. Complaints? None. I’m comfortable in my skin, I’m pleased with the choices I’ve made, I’m thrilled with my day to day existence. Is there a piece lacking? Not that I can tell.
However, this doesn’t mean I’m not looking for Love. Yep, Love with a capital L. Come on, who isn’t?! I REALLY like holding hands, like a lot, and even though I can sometimes coerce my sister into holding my hand, I rather prefer not having to resort to alcohol or music festivals or bribery for a little hand on hand contact. So I guess that means I’ve gotta find Love.
And love I’ve had, in spades. I’ve been incredibly lucky/blessed to have dated some amaaaaaaazing people. Truly, amazing. The things I’ve learned, the fun I’ve had, the connections I’ve made – how does one girl get to have so much awesome in her life?! But no matter how much I enjoyed them, the thought of giving up even one iota of my freedom completely freaked me out. You want to spend another night? You want to keep what in my fridge? You want me to make plans how far in advance?!
Then, out of the seeming blue, along came Someone. Yep, a special Someone, who I wanted to make all the plans with. Who I was coercing into staying another night. And another. Who I immediately set up with their own toothbrush, and subsequently wondered why they hadn’t started keeping extra contact solution under the sink yet. Who I invite along everywhere. Who I can spend 8 solid hours talking to, yet feel completely comfortable spending a day apart from. Huh. Cue the anxiety? Nope. Cue the second guessing? Nope. Cue some sort of drama, internal or otherwise? Nope nope nope. Huh.
Who knows where we’ll end up, this Someone and me. Maybe we’ll part ways in a month, or maybe we’ll be inseparable for the next 28 years. I dunno. And I’m not that concerned, to be honest. Right now is fan-freaking-tastic, and that’s all that matters to me.
But does he complete me? HELL NO!! For him to complete me, we would have to assume that a piece of me is missing. That some integral part of my life was flawed or gaping open until he came along to fix it up.
My life didn’t – and doesn’t – require fixing or finishing. Is he amazing? Yup. Do I want to spend time with him? Always. Does he make me want to be a better person? He inspires me every single day. However, my happiness hasn’t increased since he entered my life, it’s just stretched around to fit him in.
And you know what? I would venture a guess that one of the reasons he likes me is because my life is so full of awesomeness. Here’s a little secret: One of the (many) reasons I like him is because his life is pretty awesome too. I don’t feel like I’m filling any holes. I don’t feel any pressure to say or do or be anything other than me. I definitely don’t feel like I have to make him happy, because we’re both already happy. And I really enjoy having his happy around my happy.
( http://www.marcandangel.com/2015/02/04/9-things-you-should-be-able-to-say-about-your-life/ )by McKinnley