I used to be the kind of girl that ran her life according to a predetermined set of instructions. And by “predetermined,” I mean, something I thought sounded good on Career Day in 1990, so I went with it.
This life plan that I concocted in 6th grade prompted me to go away to college, stick with my (useless, in hindsight) major of international relations (when journalism or interior design would’ve been a much better fit — again, in hindsight), move to California, go to law school, and become a woman that lived life sitting atop the bull, jabbing it with her heel when it didn’t move fast enough.
Never in that equation did I ever plan to become a wife or a mother. In fact, it never crossed my mind to fall in love at all. Why? For what? With what time? I had SO MUCH TO ACCOMPLISH. And women like me — inconsistent, impulsive, highly opinionated, unyielding, fickle women like me — don’t have serious relationships. “It’ll just hold me back,” I convinced myself. “I’m selfish, I’ve got my own agenda, I’m an independent woman.”
Oh sure, I had relationships. If that’s what you’d call a few months of childish games. I’ll make it brief: They all failed. Miserably. Fiery vehicles squarely hitting a concrete wall and then bursting into flames have nothing on my past paramours. Sure, I cried, because of course, it sucked to get my hopes up. But if I’d ever truly believed I was meant to be someone’s girlfriend, it would’ve hurt a lot worse.
But we know what happens to the best laid plans, don’t we?
So when I met Him, I was already with someone else (albeit an ill-suited situation that was about to get worse after I caught him cheating). I’ve never been one to look around while I’m in a relationship, as pathetic as the circumstances might be.
But I couldn’t deny it. As soon as we were introduced, I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.
My whole life, I had convinced myself that I wasn’t meant to be in love. But that day, I realized how wrong I had been. I was meant to be in love. With Him.
I spent a month or so trying to patch my deceit-ravaged relationship, although I didn’t quite know why. It wasn’t going to work, for many reasons, and we both knew that. But I told myself that I didn’t need it, or deserve it, that love thing. And you know, it’s pretty hard to reverse years and years of self-inflicted brainwashing.
When Fate is talking, you’d better be listening, because she’s telling you what’s up.
Rest assured that over a year later, Fate has done her job well.
Love has gotten me good. I am smitten. I am unabashed. I’ve been knocked so hard upside the head that I don’t even remember life before Him. I love Him something fierce and something deep and something so profound, I never knew I was capable of feeling this way. Never in a million years would I have imagined feeling so passionately about someone other than, well, myself.
And now it’s coming up on Valentine’s Day #2 with Him, and I couldn’t be happier. Or more in love with Him. My whole life has changed — my way of thinking, my outlook on the future, my hopes and dreams for what I want — in the very best way.
I’m so lucky. I know this. I recognize it every day. Because the love I have is the love I need and the love I never knew existed in this world for me.
Happy Love Day to you and the one you cherish and adore. And if you don’t have one of those, keep that heart of yours buoyed. There’s no telling what’s around the corner that’ll suck the air out of your atmosphere and replace it with a cheesiness that knows no bounds.
I wish it on all of you.