And, I had no idea at the time, but I was one of the last people to speak with this man before he went and did what he did.
As I write this last sentence, it sounds unbelievable.
Don't freak out.
Believe me, I've got all sorts of excuses for being away so long, but I'd rather blame it all on one inanimate object which will never be able to retaliate. It's cleaner that way, right? And not at all ridiculous.
The list of things I don't know is exhausting. But, you should totally keep reading.
I'm learning to embrace brokenness in a new way as well. I'm learning that sometimes the greatest healing comes from having a safe, consistent place to show up at regularly, a place where we are missed when we've been absent, a place where we can play a vital role.
We dated for nearly a year. We picked out rings. He bought a house. We had chemistry. He was kind and generous. He played loud music and watched documentaries and talked a lot about fishing. We had fun. And we were both in a place in our lives where we were ready and able to say "yes."
And then, early in December 2016, I ended it.
I've been struggling with how to followup my last blog post. Over the last two weeks, whenever I've tried to sit down and write about church and dating, I've found myself twisted up and frustrated.
In my two months on Tinder, I have met exactly 3 types of men. I'd like to list them for you here:
In my own life, and maybe for most women, that mountain looks a lot like a particular type of waiting... waiting to fill the lonely ache for relationship with a mate, for the wholeness of a healthy couple. For some, it's infertility and waiting for the completeness of family to finally arrive.
"What would my life, my spiritual practice, my relationships, look like if I really did those things?" It's an interesting question and one I've given a lot of thought to.