This week is sacred to us as it marks the anniversary of our engagement (5 years on the 14th!).
My heart is flooded with remembrance (much too deep for words). . . the solitude of Kansas City, the piercing ache of the miles between us and the thundering realization that my heart had never felt so profoundly at home in the presence of another. All I had previously deemed "love" fell empty and powerless amidst the intensity of yearning I felt in Allen's absence . . . and the peace and fulfillment I experienced at his side.
I will never forget Valentines Day 2005. . . saying goodbye to Allen after a long weekend together. Spending the day entirely alone in my condo after calling out of work [for legitimate reasons, I might add :)]. Allen was Nashville bound, and I watched the clock feeling as if the hours were pulling him farther and farther from me. I ached. This day of all days (Valentines) should have been filled with the warmth and closeness of him.
My sister called. She was planning her wedding at the time and asked if I'd go to the library to look at dresses (yes, I lived without a home computer, no internet, no Skype- hundreds of miles from my man- mind boggling, isn't it?!). I agreed. It sounded like a great escape from my lonely reality.
Allen called an hour or so after I arrived at the library. He said he stopped for gas and couldn't find his wallet. He thought it might be on the dresser at my place and asked if I'd check.
It was dusk. I drove back to the condo alone. Couples filled the city, walking hand-in-hand on sidewalks, smiling. I envied them. Every one of them. They were close enough to touch their significant other. . . mine was miles away.
I walked toward my condo and much to my surprise there was a small card taped to the door. At first I was a bit spooked, thinking some random man knew I was alone in the city and had been stalking me (my worst nightmare), but as I read the words inside I knew they could have come from only one . . .
"Our love restlessly stirs in its womb in anticipation of its new life to come. . ."
My next thought was, 'Allen gave this to my neighbor! How romantic!' I fumbled through my bag looking for my phone (to call and thank him) as I unlocked the door. . .
I opened the door and the smell of incense, glow of candle light and sweet sound of Damian Rice met me (overwhelming my senses). I fell to the floor weeping. I couldn't even see Allen in the moment, there was a long hallway (with a black runner and candles) separating us, but I knew he was there. I was in TOTAL SHOCK!
I wasn't alone. . . He had come and I was home.
I pulled myself together, walked down the long hall that opened to my living area. . . the fire was roaring, rose petals covered the room, and in the glow of candlelight Allen stood with tenderness in his eyes.
I fell into him.
I could breath again. He was with me. . .
The moments we shared subsequent are an emotional blur. . . He dropped to his knee, reached for my hand and poetically shared his heart. I don't remember exactly what he said, but I do know it ended with a ring, tears and me saying "YeS" over and over as we embraced.
Dinner and a tour of fountains in a horse-drawn carriage (covered in flowers) followed . . . It was magical. More than I ever imagined it would be. . . a night forever etched in my memory.
Cheers to my Forever Love. . .
all that has been
and the beauty and mystery of what's to come.
You are my steady. my constant. my life.
I love you!