I met T when I was 15, thru his roommate & my best friend who were dating at the time. Over the following months we became inseparable. I was devastated when my parents announced just shy of a year later that we were moving across the us.
T and I wrote letters regularly (yes an actual hand written letter, shocking I know!) and called whenever we could. (Long distance calls were not free) After two months of asking my parents, they gave me the green light to move out. T showed up two weeks later with a giant stuffed tweety bird riding shotgun in his nova towing a tiny trailer which we loaded with all my belongings and off we went back across the us.
We shared an apartment with two of his friends until we could afford to get our own place. I worked full time, while finishing high school online. T taught me to drive & took me for my liscense, neither of us could cook so we lived on TV dinners, frozen meals and ramen noodles.
After almost three years together I was sitting on the bathroom counter and he asked me to marry him then took me to pick out a ring. We eloped in a church with him in a tux and a cathedral train on my formal gown. He was my best friend, my rock. The first one I wanted to share news with be it good or bad, the one I couldn’t wait to come home to and wake up next to everyday. We bought several houses together, investing blood sweat and tears, to sell it a year later for a big profit that we invested into the next home, each one bigger than the last. A move across the country and back, the loss of two pregnancies, acquiring two cats and two dogs along our 13 year journey.
We landed in a house that I worked very hard, not to flip, but to make our home. I spent hours contemplating and picking out the perfect colors of paint, and making it just right. I painted a beautiful ocean themed room with sparkling sand, and crisp blue water that was to be our child’s room. The subject of which drew a wedge between us, a distance we both felt but were helpless to stop until one night what bagan with me in puddle of tears begging him to help me understand turned into harsh words we couldn’t take back, as hearts were shattered along with our marriage.
We didn’t speak for two years other than to sort out lingering bills, message happy birthday, wish the other merry Christmas. We saw each other a few times, the hardest when I was 4 months or so pregnant and the silence hung painfully between us. After my daughter was born we slowly, rockily found our way to friendship.
When love bug’s dad and I split up we became roommates. T picked up the pieces her dad dropped, filling the promises he broke and became the daddy I always knew he would be. It was bittersweet watching this man I had loved so deeply and wanted so desperately to have a child with fill the role all this time and heartbreak later.
He is the best friend I could ever ask, and an even better father. He unfailingly is there for me and for lovebug so maybe things really do happen for a reason.