This is a story about a guy and a girl. Everyday people living everyday lives, each special as all people should be. Their lives come together as most lives on here do. With a vision and a click.
Since I can only speak for one of these people I won’t be shy about it. I’m a hopeless romantic who believes that when it comes to matters of the heart there are no rules, or guidelines to follow. No plans can be made as to the how and the why. You’re doing all right and it happens. The surprise. When you find yourself so lost in the moment that nothing else matters. When time seems to stand still and the only voice you hear is that voice coming from your heart.
My tale of romance is fraught with numbers. 136, 22, 2, 102, 5, 2, 245, 10,48,1, 21.
The first three numbers are tied together. 136 e-mails in 22 hours over 2 days. Not the long hi, how are you, I’m doing fine e-mails. These were quick, firing back and forth. As quick as one was answered another arrived. It was madness. The kinds of madness that makes you scream give me more, give me more at the top of your lungs. So many different topics, nothing out of bounds, no question too silly, and not one too serious that couldn’t and wouldn’t be answered.
The number 102 is for the miles that I drove because how can I not meet this person.
5, that’s easy. We spent 5 hours talking, laughing and for 5 hours being kids again.
Back at home that night the number 2 appears again. It’s for the 2 secrets that we shared on the phone that night. There is no way to count the tears we shared that night. No number exists for that.
245 is the distance door to door the next weekend.
10 was just the beginning of the countdown we shared to say good bye to the old and hello to the new.
48 is for the 2 days we spent together. Doing the things that people who are falling in love are suppose to do.
All except 1. The one thing that needs to be there to reach for the next level. The spark, the one that ignites all of the passion, and desire. As we held each other to kiss and say good bye the tears were in our eyes. OK, they were in her eyes; mine were caused by smoke because guys don’t cry. They were tears because of what we both knew. We had connected on so many different levels. We had been on this merry-go-round together. We had grabbed each ring as came to us. Trust, compassion, truthfulness, understanding, knowledge and laughter. As we came around for the final ring, the brass ring of passion. Our ride had stopped. We could see it but it seemed to be just out of reach.
21, how many days this lasted. Not a lifetime, but something I will carry with me for the rest of my lifetime.
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