As I’ve blogged before, Mr. Kiwi and I met for the first time almost ten years ago. I was a 17 year old fresh out of high school when I met Mr. Kiwi - also just out of high school. We dated for a very short time, and quickly lost touch. It was the age old tale of a girl wanting something more “exciting” and less adoring, so she broke up with the man who loved her - knowing all the while this was probably the one person who would ever love her like that. Well, I found that “excitement,” and boy did it suck, my mental prophecy was fulfilled - no one loved me like him. Many years passed, and Mr. Kiwi was never far from my mind.
Over the years, I tried to find him many times - once I actually talked to him! The last time I tried, his brother gave me the new number I could reach him at, and the number was wrong. It seemed that there was something keeping us apart, which is odd due to some slight coincidences between our lives as we grew older.
Mr. Kiwi is a teacher/coach at a school that played against the children I baby sat for. They were often at games together! Mr. Kiwi’s mom works a block away from me, and goes to lunch at some of the same places I do. Our lives intersected in many more ways, I just can’t remember them now. Finally, in 2003, my search for him proved fruitful. I looked up his name on Friendster.com, and got a hit.
After trading emails back and forth, we met up and decided to give the relationship another more adult try. A year later we moved in together, four months after that we got a dog, and a year after THAT we got engaged. Now, we’re going to be marrying two days before our 10 year anniversary. It’s been quite the story to tell - thank goodness for the internet, right?
Sometimes I think this is such a fairytale; girl meets boy, breaks his heart and loses him only to marry him ten years later. The world is full of these stories, right (Miss Bluebell, ahem)? Though it sounds so romantic, there are also major pressures that go along with this. When we first got together, I was often worried about breaking his heart again. I didn’t want to make that mistake - think I loved him and then realize I just wanted this story to work out. Even now, almost four years later, I get worried. What if this isn’t love? How do I KNOW? What if somehow, things go wrong? Usually, I just think - it’s Mr. Kiwi! He’s the best thing that ever happened to me, and I know that now.
Yesterday, I went shopping for my bridal shower stuff (my family likes to start things early), and finally-FINALLY- those little doubts are gone. The fear of “forever” and heartbreak are gone, and joy and excitement have replaced them. People - I’m a grown up now.
Mr. Kiwi is literally my past, present and future. And our grandkids have a great story to hear when they get older!
Do you think that sometimes people just need a break to realize what they’re missing?
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