I found a folder in one of my clouds simply titled “Things I’ll Never Say”. It’s been such a long time since I went into the folder, I didn’t have a clue what was in it. Well … I found this, and I figured it was too beautiful a little tale to not share with you beautiful people.
Because I Can’t Write a Novel – Day 10
One of my female friends asked me a question the other day, and it inspired this post. As much as I may have some seriously bad feelings about some of the exes in my life, I have some really good memories to go hand in hand with them, and I can’t think too badly of them for too long. My friend asked me – “Who was your favourite love story?”
A girl will fall in love with many men over their lifetime. Each and every one of them will mean something different. Each of them will leave a different mark on her heart, and therefore her life, and each of them will bring something new and interesting to the table. With Big Love came adventure and at that point in my life, married to a man who beat me and cheated on me but who desperately wanted to start a family with me, adventure was exactly what I needed. Perhaps not adventure, but definitely a change.
Why wouldn’t he be my favourite love story – Big Love? We met in a war zone! In a place filled with such death and destruction, with so many bad things going on all around us, we managed to find each other, to be drawn to each other, and eventually fall in love with each other. Isn’t that a beautiful love story? The first six months of our relationship was the most exciting six months of my life, and if I could go back and do it all over again I would in a heartbeat. Without even so much as a second thought.
I remember the first time we made love in his tent. It was in the middle of the day but it was dark and sticky inside. We were kissing, watching TV, just chilling on a rare day off for us both. We had been for some food and gone walking around in the baking heat, touching arms and holding hands, and even now, almost six years later, I still remember that day like it was yesterday. It’s crazy some of the memories that stay in your head for a lifetime, isn’t it?
We were kissing, slowly removing each other’s clothes, trying to be quiet because of the people in the tent spaces around us. Breathing heavily into each other’s necks, trying so hard not to move too much in his squeaky single bed, it was intoxicating. The fact that the alarm siren could go off at any minute, forcing us to get dressed and run outside to the safety areas with everyone else, just added to the effect. Plus, the fact that anyone could hear us while we were exploring each other for the very first time. He was brand new – he wasn’t my husband.
Our war-zone situation forced our love story to be much bigger and more explosive than it would have been in the ‘real world’. Every emotion was heightened. Every touch meant so much more. Out there we could be blown up at any moment. The friendships we formed with the people around us lasted a lifetime. I am still in regular contact with many of the friends I made there, and that’s not something I find easy. Friends come and go for me.
I made him wait a while before he finally got me into his bed. I’m pretty sure it was a few weeks before our relationship was taken to that level. I needed to break up with my husband first. It sounds petty and pathetic, but believe I would never have gotten out if it hadn’t been for Big Love. He wasn’t from the same country or culture as me so his gentlemanly ways really intrigued me. It was just what I needed at that time – vulnerable and a little fragile. Believe it or not, right at the beginning he was the perfect boyfriend. He was romantic, attentive, he listened, he gave a shit. I couldn’t fault him. I fell in love with him a long time before we slept together. I just hadn’t realised it. But for me to have actually left my husband, I must have known he was something very fucking special. I remember calling my mother one night in the middle of the night to tell her of my excitement at this strange, exotic man from the other side of the world.
I remember the nights we spent outside his tent, staying awake until the early hours of the morning just talking about times gone by and the times we could have in the future. I remember the night we first said, “I love you” to each other too. It wasn’t long after we’d slept together for the first time, but I sure meant it. He’d walked me back from his part of the camp to my part. On the way we’d passed some soldiers playing on their guitars, and I’m pretty sure it was “Hey Lady” by Thriving Ivory they were playing. A relatively unheard-of song, but one that will always mean so much to me now. The love song playing in the background on the acoustic guitar with the bright shiny stars above us in the night sky… It was the perfect setting. It was the perfect moment. It was like something out of a movie. In fact, you couldn’t make that stuff up. It was beautiful. He stopped and held my hand to beckon for me to stop, before turning me to face him. Taking my cheeks in his hands, he looked at me right in the eyes and he said just three words – “I love you!”
My heart melted then just as it does right now remembering that. I remember feeling wobbly. I remember my head feeling as if it could burst. I loved that man right there in that moment, and I still love him a little bit now. Mostly because of the beautiful memories we shared – more of which I should share with you. It wasn’t all bad.
We found love in a hopeless place – him newly separated, going through a divorce, and me also newly separated. We were two people who really needed to lick their wounds and I think we healed each other in the process. We laughed and loved so much considering we were in a war zone. An actual war zone.
The day I agreed to go to the other side of the world with him was the best decision I ever made. He really was my knight in shining armour, and he always will be. I’m sad and disappointed that we didn’t work because I feel our beginning – that beautiful little love story – has now been wasted. What a beautiful love story! What a tragic ending! But if it wasn’t for him, I’d still be with the Hubby and he’d still be beating me senseless. He’d still be pushing me around and punching me in the face. He’d still be spitting in my face and pulling me around by my hair. He’d still be calling me fat and ugly, telling me I wasn’t worth anything, that no one else would ever love me, that he didn’t love me…
I sometimes wonder if Big Love knows how much he saved me? He made me up my standards. He made me want more, to expect more from the relationships I had and the men I had them with. Up until the drugs took over his life again, he couldn’t have been more perfect for me. The drugs were more important. We couldn’t get through it. It was too much for me. After the Hubby and everything he did to me, I didn’t have the strength to go through the drug addict chapter of my life for any longer than I did. I didn’t want to leave. I had to. I didn’t have a choice.
He’ll always be my favourite love story and he’ll always be my cruelest breakup.
He’s engaged now to the girl who had his beautiful baby boy, and they’ve got the dogs we always planned to get together. I wish him the very best. I hope he’s found the happy ever after that he was looking for. It’s a shame it wasn’t with me.
But he’ll always be my favourite love story. I wish he knew that.
- Expected word count: 16,670
- Word count today: 1,497
- Word count to date: 13,630 (Well … I’m massively behind!)
(Oh, and if you’re wondering what ‘Because I Can’t Write a Novel‘ is all about, click the link to be taken to the start … )