It’s funny. I grew up as a little girl hating boys. Boys were stupid and boys bullied me. So I went to a girls’ school between 13 and 16 years old. Then I decided they weren’t bad after all, and I started dating.
Hearts were broken, of course. Mine included. At a certain point, I was comfortable being on my own, thinking I’d never find the right one for me – and yet it didn’t matter, I didn’t care.
But the path took a sharp turn. I met someone, with whom I had the fondest of memories 2 years before, again, and the same good feelings returned. We pursued it further despite everything lying ahead. We were both at uncertain phases of our lives. But miraculously, it persevered.
In 2011, we spent a total of 2.5 weeks (1 + 1.5) together.
In 2012, we spent a total of 6 weeks (2.5 + 2 + 1 + .5) together.
In 2013, we spent a total of 17 weeks (1 + 1 + 15) together.
In 2014, we have spent a total of 32 weeks together so far. During which, he proposed and we married. H has now left for India for work and will return within the last weeks of December.
It’s funny that the time has only increased so far and we’re still hungry for more time. We need more time together.
But it’s amazing, looking back on what we have done and how crazy we have been – to take the leap of faith of being together without being together, to then make the move and be together, to then decide to want to be together for the rest of our lives.
And till today, I think it was the best decision of my life, and I can’t wait for the man of my dreams to be home.