I had a lovely boyfriend. Despite what some people may think, I've actually been very lucky with love. The American is a good guy, honest, respectable, smart, well-adjusted. He always talked about getting me my green card, so I could come to the states and marry a lawyer. He wants to have kids.
So of course I messed it up. Long distance relationships are hard, even if you're not an ex-cult kid who was abandoned by almost everyone and has severe trust issues. I met an Irish and broke up with The American. The Irish lasted all of two minutes, and I was alone again. Not that it was a bad thing, I think being alone is probably all I'm good for right now.
Last night I was home having a girls night with Red, eating dinner, drinking wine, listening to music, and someone knocked at my door. And there he was. With flowers. After all this time. He drove to Canada in a snow storm to see me. After making fun of his outfit, Red left us alone and The American, who is deathly allergic to my cat, took 3 Benadryl and passed out.
I texted my mom and said you wouldn't believe who just showed up here. She said "Even though I hope it was Kevin, I'm guessing it was Irish or Adam, one of the asshole players." But it wasn't. :)
So I guess now I believe in second chances, redemption, all that stuff. Usually, I just wait for it to end, and if it doesn't quick enough, I help the process along by being crazy. But I'm not crazy. Even with all the shit that I've had to wade through, the broken hopes and dreams and aspirations...truth is, I'm surprisingly normal. It was great to see Kevin.
I didn't have to lose myself to love him. He took me "as is" and never expected anything more than what I was capable of giving. Even though I was damaged goods. I was fine, just the way I am. To be honest, "just the way I am" is good enough for me right now too.
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