I didn't want him to go.
Until recently, I had never been romantically involved with a guy longer than six weeks. While I thoroughly and enthusiastically engaged in dating, flirting and "hanging out", I had been unsuccessful in meeting someone who held my interest beyond these fun, but superficial activities. I preferred to keep things casual whilst secretly battling concerns that my perennial single-hood would eventually result in my becoming a “Cat Lady.” (Oh the horror!)
Then, in July of 2005, I met Ryan. We were each other's last date at Pre-Dating (a 6-minute version of the 8-minute phenomenon) and bonded over Illinois basketball and tales of living overseas. On our third date he told me earnestly, "I don't know if you can tell, but I really like you a lot." This was after I had belted out a most enthusiastic version of Pat Benetar's "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" at his friends' karaoke party. Those who know me well can attest that while I have a lot of passion… a recording career is definitely not in my future unless it involves getting the neighborhood dogs involved with some backup singing. Luckily my lack of musical talent was not a deal breaker. It was also after I discovered he drove… the hot… the sporty…the ghetto fabulous… 1990 Dodge Caravan. However I had already figured out that I really liked him a lot too. If I wasn’t yet pairing my first name with his last, I was, at the very least, dancing giddily around and going “Eeeeeeee!” Er, not out loud or in front of him or anything… just in my head… and… um… maybe in my bedroom when I was pretty sure there was no one else in the apartment. And actually, I'm not that impressed by flashy sports cars, so the van was pretty darn sexy, too.
Despite the promising start, it didn’t stop me from encouraging him to follow in my footsteps by joining the Peace Corps. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life… he liked travel… he was intrigued by international development… it seemed a good fit. After only dating for three months, I figured I likely wouldn’t be in the picture when he actually did join. Sure he was amazing and a heck of a lot of fun and really cute and smart and cool and we definitely had chemistry… but would it really last? Could it be I wasn’t destined for cats after all?
As it turns out not only did our relationship continue to grow, but I went and fell in love for the first time in my life. Then things got scary. First he had his interview. Then his nomination. And in May, six months after I said “Hey Ryan! Have you ever thought about joining the Peace Corps?,” he received his invitation for Business Development in Bulgaria. I’m not ashamed to admit I begged him not to go. I told him I would break up with him if he did; I absolutely wouldn’t do long distance. Was I being reasonable? Probably not, but all I could think was I had waited my entire life to find someone like him… and what was more I knew he felt the same way too. To throw it away seemed desperately unfair.
After much intense discussion and plenty of tears… clearly Ryan did decide to go to Bulgaria. Just as plainly, my vow to avoid the dreaded long distance relationship has been unsubstantiated. We both knew when we said our tearful goodbyes, it was really “see you later” as neither of us could imagine not having the other in our life. He left on August 4 and surprisingly, the very thing that I felt would be disastrous for our relationship has actually proved to be a tremendous turning point for us. I never would have imagined it would turn out this way… but here we are, stronger than ever.
Today, after two and a half months of training, Ryan swore in as an official volunteer and has moved to Stara Zagora, his town of placement. My initial opinions notwithstanding, I am so proud of him for stepping outside his comfort zone and trying to make a difference. He has an energy and wisdom that is rare and I feel so lucky to have him in my life. At the risk of waxing romantic (like I haven't already, right?), I love him so much and I am so excited to see what Bulgaria has in store for us!
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6 comments:
Very happy for you. You don't even have a cat. Cat ladies are great. We are passionate, friendly, and kind, often with cat hair on our clothes. Seize the day cat ladies.
Ah, m'dear (I know who you are) I love cats. I will probably try and own a cat in Bulgaria, in fact. :) That is, if I can find a job and afford to feed myself, let alone a pet...
Just remember, not only do you have to feed it, buy litter, shots and the occasional cat sitting duty, you have to have enough money to bring it back with you by plane. And be sure to speak both languages in front of the cat, bilingual is best.
Too funny---no more cats! I still am taking care of your "original" 17-year-old cat! No more for now!
Love, Mom
For the record, it was a 1992 Dodge Caravan, not a 1990! And it was, indeed, ghetto fabulous!
awwww... thats so cute :-)
i just read your blog and i'm excited for you to come to bulgaria :-)
thanks for the comment:-)
and no worries.
i don't even like cats and i think i'm going to become the cat lady. :-P
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