Creative Corner 4 - It Started with Humming

Another short story for you today!

It started with humming.  The beginning of what I thought was the end of my engagement.

The way I met the man I am going to marry was the kind of meeting that you see in the typical romantic comedy film.  A “meet cute” I believe they call it.

We were both in the food court of the shopping centre, me trying to balance my food tray, my handbag and my ringing mobile phone and him with his tray full of food and drink in one hand and a book in the other.  Both preoccupied with our distractions, we crashed into one another.  Our eyes met as drinks and food flew into the air and that, as they say, was that.  Fate.  Love over spilled food and flying coca cola.

After mopping up the spills, numbers were exchanged; something that I had never done before.  Giving my number to a stranger?  Never!  Yet I looked into this man’s eyes and somehow, I had never felt safer in my life.

From the start I felt like I was on a rollercoaster with this man.  Adam.  And my name?  Eve.  You can imagine the jokes that we get.  A rollercoaster where it started with food flying at our faces and ended, far, far faster than we anticipated, with him asking me to marry him a year later.

Adam and I are polar opposites in many ways.  They say that opposites attract.  Well that seems to be the case with us.  Where he yings, I yang and yet somehow, we always end up in the middle.  Together.  I am the romantic, he is the pragmatic one.  I live my life by whimsy, he leaves nothing to chance.  He is a gamer, I am a film addict.  He is serious, I am undoubtedly the silly one of the two of us.

Adam is not a romantic.  But he shows his love in other ways.  He wants to make me happy and he does.  The way he makes sure my car is running properly, the way he walks next to the road when we walk along the street.  The fact that although he hates the smell of coffee, he went out and bought an expensive coffee machine for his house because I love the stuff.  But you hate coffee?  I said to him.  But I love you, was his answer.

Unfortunately, as it happens in the films where you get a meet cute moment, there is inevitably the point where an unexpected twist occurs and the relationship that you were so sure about hangs in the balance.

As I told you at the start of tale, the beginning of what I thought was the end of our engagement, was humming.  Adam didn’t hum.  Didn’t sing.  Yet suddenly, out of the blue one day, he started humming.  In the kitchen, when working on his car.  What he was humming I could not tell, although it seemed to have a melody of some description.  He also seemed to have no idea that he was humming.  I mentioned it to him a couple of times when I walked in on him humming a nameless tune and he would immediately deny it.  Odd.

Then his gaming, which I enjoyed watching, suddenly increased from playing at home, to going to gaming nights with friends.  Sorry baby, boys only he said.  The host of the gaming nights he claimed was an old friend that I had never met and "I don't think he is your sort".  

I tried to be supportive but couldn't understand why suddenly one, which then turned into two nights a week, were unavailable now.  Tuesdays and Thursdays were now off limits.  No questions.  This had now been going on for two months.

Then one night when we were cuddled up on the sofa watching a film, he went to the kitchen to grab some snacks and his phone pinged.  Not intentionally (she says) but I looked over to his screen which had flashed up with a message.  

Sarah.  "Sorry, I can't do tomorrow now, my parents are coming to town, shall we raincheck till our Thursday session?"

Tomorrow was Tuesday.  His gaming night with his friends, he said.  Thursday was the other night.  So who was Sarah?  My heart sank and I feared the worst, yet when he returned to the room laden with Doritos and dip, I said nothing.  

Some time later he checked his phone and said "Oh gaming is off tomorrow, Dan has his parents visiting, do you fancy going for dinner?"  Lying, right to my face.  I lied right back to him about a meet up with a friend and said I couldn't change my plans.  

Unable to look at him and feeling completely overwhelmed I then faked a migraine and insisted that I wanted a night in my own bed when he offered to put me to bed and look after me.  I could not understand it.  This man, who looked after me, cared for me, loved me, or so I believed; was cheating on me?

When I got home I went over everything in my head.  Maybe I had read the message wrong, maybe the name was not Sarah.  And talking about a "session"??  Was that a gaming session?  God.  I hoped so.  A session with another woman meant only one thing that I could think of in that moment.

I couldn't quite believe that a man who had planned for me to move in with him next month, ready for our marriage two months later, would do this to me.  Redecorated his whole place in a way that suited both of us.  Put me on his car insurance.  This man who planned everything in his life wouldn't do all that, just to cheat.  Surely?

The next night I decided to make my lie into the truth and got my best friend to meet me at a bar.  After a bottle of wine and a chaser of sambuca (or five) had passed my lips, a plan was made.  I would follow him on Thursday.  See where he going.  If he was meeting with a woman, then at least I would know and could confront him.  It neither occurred to Jess and I to simply ask him.  The sambuca said "follow him".  So follow him I would.

In the cold light of day in the morning, a hangover brewing, I started to question my decision.  Why not just ask about the text?  But, I could not get past the fact that he had lied to me.  I wondered if I did ask him, if he would lie again?  I was certain now of what I saw.  I resolved to carry out with my plan.

After I finished work I parked up my car near to Adam's place, out of sight and positioned myself in the alley where I could clearly see him leave the house.  Hangover gone and adrenalin pumping, I was ready now.  For whatever I may see.  I just hoped that he had not already left.

At 6.30pm I saw Adam leaving the house but instead of getting into his car, he started to walk down the road, towards the high street.  I started to follow him.  I felt at this point that I was betraying his trust, but he had betrayed mine and I had to know.

After a few minutes walking down the high street, with me ducking and diving into shop doors to avoid being seen (I just pray no one was watching me), he disappeared down a side road.  When I reached the beginning of the street, he was nowhere in sight. I had lost him.

I scanned the buildings on each side of the street.  A combination of shops, a restaurant, some flats.  Dare I risk looking in the windows?  Had he gone to the restaurant?  This was getting ridiculous and I contemplated going home.

As I lingered at the corner of the street, about to leave, suddenly I heard music.  It was muffled like it was coming from a building, but I could hear it.  And it sounded a little like Adam's humming.  Listening further, the song sounded familiar.

Unable to stop myself I started walking down the street, trying to find the source of the music.  After passing a few shops, I came towards what looks like some sort of studio.  The sign above me read "Sarah McCarthy Dance".  

Sarah.  Sarah.  The name from the text message.  

The music from the studio was now clear as day and I did know the song.  Jackie DeShannon - What the World Needs Now.  

I noticed that there was a window to the side of the ground floor studio and moved around to see if I could look in. There, dancing a waltz with an instructor, Sarah, of course, was Adam.

I had talked with him many times about wanting to do a first dance together at our wedding.  He had always shied away from it because he said that he couldn't dance.  "I can only drunk dance darling and you don't want that".

This man, who cared for me and always wanted to ensure that I was the happiest I could be, was learning to dance.  For me.  For our wedding.  

I quickly moved away from the window.  I felt like the luckiest person in the world.  Because I get to spend the rest of my life with this man.  I will never tell him what I did.

I will forever be grateful that I did not spoil the surprise of this wonderful thing he was doing for me.  I vowed then and there to make sure that I made him as happy as he made me.

I walked back down the high street away from the studio.  Humming.

Waiting for The One

 

I found the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with much later than normal.  Although, what is normal?  In my case, I was 39.  So yes, much later than the average let us say.

I spent years of my life having no confidence, no self worth.  Having a meaningful relationship with someone is not really possible or at least certainly not healthy when you feel this way about yourself.  I met men here and there of course and had a few short relationships, but nothing that I would have called one that would last.

I always knew the kind of man that I wanted to be with.  Although I did not visualise him in my head other than the usual kind of physical attributes that you find attractive, in my case a good smile and taller than me; I knew the type of man that I felt would be the one.  I somehow felt that there was just the one person for me, somewhere.

My lack of confidence aside, I also knew that this was something that I would not be willing to compromise on.  I was prepared to walk alone on the winding path of my life forever if I did not find him.  Nearing 39, I had reached a point where I knew that this was likely to be the case.

This is something that the people around me I think found hard to understand.  I wanted a relationship, wanted to be with someone.  I wanted desperately to fall in love, but I also knew in myself, somehow, that that one person would just come along and I would know.  A fool’s wish you may say.  Unrealistic expectations that would more than likely not be realised.

Looking back now, I realise that I would have been ready for a proper relationship much earlier than when I found him.  I worked on myself for years, finding my confidence, my self worth, my voice.  Being happy in who and what I was, was only a recent thing.

I do believe in fate, in the right timing and in trusting your gut.  So you can appreciate, or maybe you can’t, that it felt like the stars aligned when I found myself, and then found him.

I had been on a couple of dates in the months previous, each of them ending with me running for the hills.  One who admitted on the date that he was diagnosed with severe anger issues and was seeing a Psychiatrist about his violent behaviour and the other who was just, very very odd.  Absolutely not my type, or my kind of odd (aren’t we all looking for our particular brand of crazy?).

I then started talking to this man online and from the beginning I had butterflies.  He was handsome, but more than that he was interesting.  He had thoughts about a million different subjects.  He intrigued me in a way that I never have been before.  

We had our first date and no alarm bells rang.  He was as interesting in person as his messages and I found him extremely attractive.  The butterflies grew in size.  I was cautious about my heart and wary about getting too excited, but after a few dates with this man, I could not help myself.  

Still I exercised caution.  My problem has always been that I give my heart away when I should not.  The only man that I had really loved before was a massive mistake.  A friend.  Someone who I tried to morph myself into being the person that he would want.  He didn't.   In hindsight he was also not the right person for me.  At all.  In fact I don't think that he would like the person that I am now.  That thought amuses me.

When I give my heart, you get all of it.  I am like the Oodkind from Doctor Who.  I hold my heart in my hand and I offer it completely.   I knew that if I fell for this man I had just met as I knew I was doing, he would have my whole heart.  Not something that you should trifle with or give away lightly.

We really spent our time getting to know each other.  He said that he had not been looking for a relationship, having only got out of a long term relationship 6 months earlier.  But then, as he said, he found me.  We found each other.

Nearly 6 years on, I write this with a smile on my face.  I look at my phone which has his picture saved on my home screen and every time, my face lights up.  He is, without a shadow of a doubt, the man that I was waiting for.

I am the ying to his yang and together, we have both found a happiness that neither thought was possible.  He makes me smile, he makes me laugh, he encourages me and we talk about so much, all of the time.  I found my peace and my joy with him.  He tells me that no one has ever loved him like I do. I feel the same.  

He was worth the wait.  I also, as I said before, believe that I would not have been ready myself for this relationship until the time we met.  Every thing I went through in my life, every journey, every voyage of discovery I took within myself led me to him.

I look forward to spending my forever with this man and I forever grateful that I trusted my gut that told me that one day, he would arrive.

Here's to love.

A Thousand Different Women

I read a poem recently which resonated with me so completely that I wanted to share it here today.  I believe that the author of the poem is Taryn Nergaad.

Make peace with the women that you once were

lay flowers at their feet.

Offer them incense, and honey and forgiveness.

Honour them and give them your silence.

Listen.

Bless them and let them be.

For they are the bones of the temple that you now sit in.

They are the rivers of wisdom that led you to the sea.

I have been a thousand different women.

In the world that we now live in, we are encouraged to move ahead, get ahead, improve, inspire, aspire, succeed and never look back.  Forwards, upwards and onwards is the trajectory that we are told is the path to take.  Don't look back.

But I believe that looking back is an important part of knowing who we are, what we are and how far we have come.

I have been many different women, each touched and changed by the experiences that I have had through my teenage years, my twenties and beyond.  Each of these women has left a mark on me in some way.  Has helped me.  Formed the person that I am today.

Some of these women have been stronger than me,  some weaker.  Some lost, some  found.  Some with unfound hope and some with a sense of purpose to improve.  There are parts of these women that I have been that I will never be again.  Other parts have stayed with me.  But all of these women I am thankful to in some way because without them; I would simply not be me.

I am so thankful for the women who lived in this body before me.  

I often wonder if I travelled back in time to earlier versions of myself, whether I would even recognise the person before me.  Because until now I have never really looked back and tried to remember those women.

I want to acknowledge some of them today.

Thank you to the girl who loved to write.  You stayed with me.

I'm sorry to the girl who had my worst years.  You were drowning and I did not listen.

Thank you to the girl who fought the black dog of depression and won.  The girl who was and is the strongest that I will ever be.  I am alive today because of you.

Thank you to the girl who knew what she wanted, beyond doubt and sometimes reason.  You stayed with me.

Thank you to the woman who decided that she was worth more than the value placed on her by others.  And by me.  She went looking for and found it.  She stayed with me too.

Thank you to the woman who broke through her shyness and found her confidence with each passing day.

Thank you to the woman who had hope that she would find her person and tried again.  She found her ever after.

Remember the women that you were before you became you.   You owe them everything.