When I met the man with whom I had a relationship that was the healthiest I have had, that was heading towards health before he made a bad decision or two that spiralled him right back to depression...
I was content on my own.
I made a list that was filled with so many criteria I thought I was set to remain single for the duration of my university studies. My concept for this list was:
"If I am going to spend another minute on a man instead of my ambitions and fun things and family and friends, he has to be this amazing."
I moved from a place of abundance, not scarcity.
I was so convinced of my bulletproof plan to remain single for a couple of years at least. Then I saw him.
We met at a place where people gathered with mutual interests. My pleading association. Pleitvereniging.
We talked a bunch there, we chatted and e-mailed before he offered to have a coffee.
Circumstances led it to be a drink at this lovely little bar.
We talked and laughed for hours. I fell in love for the first time.
I wanted to kiss him but it had to be at a beautiful location, so I made him walk on his formal shoes over cobble stones for a while until I found the perfect spot.
At that point I was letting him talk, gathering courage before I pulled him by his tie.
I allowed myself to be the romantic I am always afraid to let show.
It was the first person I kissed where sparks flew. Where the world stopped and I wasn't thinking. We were one.
People who knew him for longer shared how he smiled for the first time in a while. How he smiled when I was mentioned unlike any other time.
knowthyself, vrouw, 29 jaar
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