When it’s real… 

Right now,  somewhere,  some poor kid is falling in love for the first time, and it’s likely it won’t last forever.  I think pretty much everyone is born a romantic.  when we’re young,  we all have these ideals of what love is supposed to be. A fairytale that has been pounded into our heads or entire lives that isn’t realistic and seems to take ud by surprise when we learn that life just doesn’t usually work that way. but still,  young, niave and hopeful, we keep going.  clinging. just trying to force things to fit but it just. ..doesn’t.  

First loves are the purest. they are free of the baggage and skepticism that crush those ideals and sabotage our relationships. when that first love is lost,  you lose a huge chunk of yourself and you can literally feel it being ripped from your chest.  then you spend the rest of your days wandering aimlessly and blindfolded,  slamming into everything until someone takes your hand and lifts the cloth that’s pressed firmly against your eyes. a brand new face and then suddenly those ideals come creeping and you feel that heart pounding,  head rushing, tummy fluttering feeling and swear you’re hearing wedding bells and seeing fireworks.  still skeptical, you try to make sense of it thinking maybe it’s just my senses playing tricks on me.  My equilibrium is thrown off because It’s no longer dark,  my ears are ringing, I’m dizzy, it’s only because I can see again. some immediately reach for rose tinted glasses to make things seem to fit their original idea of love. 

I’m SO guilty of all of these things. I was left crippled by my first heartbreak and never fully recovered. every relationship after that one the blindfold stayed intact for the entire time. 
But then, one day, 2 major relationships, one broken engagement, a child, and twenty years later,  after consuming 2 cheap bottles of wine and a package of menthols armed with my smartphone and the Facebook app, I decided to do a little snooping (like I had done at least a dozen times before) on my first love. 

Last I’d seen, he was happily married and had been for the last decade, and had a son. I searched for him with no avail, so decided to check out the “wife’s”  Facebook profile only to find that although she still had his name, she was pictured with a different man and there were only a couple of pictures that were visible in which none of them included him or the children (which I found out later they had a second son) 
So panicked, thinking my one true love had perished tragically in some horrific accident, I found his mother and sent her a private message. 3 days went by and I got a response. not from her, but him! we arranged to meet the following day and when I ran up to hug him, that blindfold just slipped from my face and that part of me that always seemed to be missing, popped right back into place. 

We became inseparable. we’ve been together for 6 months. we are already living together and my heart still skips a beat when he texts or calls me from work, when I hear the door open and he walks through, and we still grasp and hold each other tight for at least a minute when he comes home. 

I’m so very lucky. I have never had such a feeling of completion. We’re actually HAPPY. Not just content… we’re truly happy. I never thought this was in the cards for me. I sure as hell never thought I would end up with him. 
He’s taken my son as his own. my son is autistic and is quite the handful but my love has helped us with a steady hand and I couldn’t be more grateful. 

I hope everyone gets to experience this. 

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