Don't Let the Door Hit You...

I have been working so hard. So very hard. I didn't have the kids this weekend, so that made things easier, but I DO still have the boyfriend.

Every night I get off work and race to Denver like I stole something, just so I can fall asleep in his arms - and then I wake up in the morning and race back. Sometimes it is everything I need it to be, and sometimes it only makes me feel more alone. By the time I got to Friday of this week, there was no telling what I was going to be feeling like.

And that, of course, is where the trouble begins with me.

We both got off work at the same time - he went to a friend's house for drinks, I got on the highway to do my flyinglowundertheradar rountine. He called every twenty minutes or so for an update, giving instructions like "Call me when you get to Arapahoe", etc.

When I got to the last offramp by his house, I followed directions and rang him to let him know I was almost there. To which he responded by saying something cheesey (but wonderful) like "Wooohooo! Heaven is only ten minutes away!" and then teasing me about meeting him at the door naked.

I got there first. I opened the blinds. Let the dog in. Made a pot of coffee. Loaded the dishwasher. Unloaded the dryer. Checked my email. Checked my voicemail. Went to the mailbox and got the mail. Put the dog out. Loaded the washer. Let the dog back in...and then got a beer.

Somewhere in my head I decided that this is not how I think Friday night for me is supposed to pan out- so I gave myself a deadline. If that boy didn't show up in another 15, I was out.

Fifteen came - I left. I didn't even know where to drive to! I just drove. I reviewed my internal list of friends in Denver and tried to get myself together enough to call one of them to hang with for awhile.

I must have been unconciously sending alarm signals through the air, because I hadn't even made it out to the interstate yet before he started to call. He called 12 times. He ran my voice mailbox out of room. Listening to the messages I realized that he didn't even know I had left the house yet! He just thought I wasn't answering his calls on ANY phone.

When I finally parked and called him back, I really expected him to say something akin to "If you are that impatient, why don't you just keep on going?". But he didn't. He was devestated that he hurt me. Asked me to please come "home" - he had invited my friends over for cards and drinks, and he needed to put his arms around me before they got there.

I got to the house first. Opened the door, turned on the lights, let the dog in, freshened up my tearstained face - and then he finally came barreling through the door, hollering,"Baby! Where are you?!". The hug he gave me was the very best hug I have ever had. I have not in my WHOLE life felt as loved or as complete as I did in that moment. That made me cry again.

Later, when we talked about where our disconnect was, I explained to him that I don't ever want him to not be excited to see me. The minute he doesn't look forward to coming home to be with me, I want out. I told him that I know in my heart that there is someone out there that thinks I am amazing...and if it isn't him, he needs to let me GO!

He kissed my eyes, and my nose, and my mouth ...all the while whispering,"Cort, you are the most amazing creature I have ever met.".

And I believed him.