So, I met a guy
I said the words, my hands wrapped around a London Fog, playing with the cup as I said them. Tears brimming up in my eyes. I glanced up across the table to get her reaction, fully expecting to have to fight to the end for this guy, I had met.
“He’s really special to me, and I hope he is to you as well.”
It’s not that I didn’t want to tell people about him…I guess it was more I wanted to make sure he was really the one I wanted to defend when things hit the fan, you know, the one I wanted to go to bat over when people started to judge…silently and not so silently.
…and then there was the small part of me that felt that this was too good to be true, that I was jumping into it too fast, I wasn’t seeing things for what they really were…I was on a slippery slope to nowhere good and I was making this out to be something it wasn’t. It’s not like I haven’t done THAT before. I wanted to protect my heart. My pride, perhaps. If this were to go south, I told myself, the fewer people that knew, the better…
But then an older man in our church who has been there, well, forever, was diagnosed, out of the blue, with cancer. I couldn’t even imagine the pain him and his family were experiencing, and his wife…they have been married for years and years. Been together longer than they have been apart…which is when I knew. I was tired of wasting time. I was tired of fearing other people and their responses. If this “guy” was really as special to me as I was saying, then why was I wasting time introducing him to people? Why was I wasting time…precious time…time that is not guaranteed to us? I want to spend as long as possible with him, and the only thing standing between me and forever was my pride and fear.
So, I bit the bullet and slowly started telling people about this special guy who was in my life…hopefully for a long time. This guy, who somehow almost has me believing that I am as special as he makes me feel.
So, with that being said…
“I met a guy…”