Getting Life

Christopher and I had decided that a break was something only seen on Friends and thankfully it ended without either of us sleeping with the copy girl and dedicating U2 songs to one another. But I was still Queen of Space. Even though we decided to work on things, the problem wasn't magically resolved and I think he needed time to take a step back to straighten himself out.

Another week had passed. I was busy with training for my 5k and going to my knitting-for-charity group and meeting a new friend and going to happy hours that I didn't notice Christopher's absence much. Somewhere along the line, I had created a life for myself. All of the small steps I had taken since I started therapy last May amounted to whole new life. I learned that change isn't made by leaps and bounds, but small steps in a new direction.

And when Christopher called a week later, I was breathless.

"How are you?" he asked.

"I'm great! I am going to the gym three times a week to prepare for a 5k I signed up for. My group of friends and I planned a weekend trip to the mountains and we're in the talks of another roller skating night since the first one was so fun. And I just booked my spring break!" And I didn't lie once.

He was taken aback with how busy I was. I truly wasn't playing games with him; life had just fallen into place. It had been heading in this direction for awhile.

Christopher had been using his time wisely too. He told me he had been getting up early every morning to look for work. He shared enough detail about the jobs he had been applying for that I believed him. And then he asked to make plans. He came over on a Thursday night to eat dinner and do some laundry. While he was there, he asked if I had made any plans on Saturday yet. He's never asked me if I was already booked yet. He used to always assume I was free until I say, "I can't. My father wants to have dinner," or something like that.

Saturday I stopped at his place before we went out to dinner. We always bicker about who is going to whom's house to the point that sometimes we don't get together because neither of us will budge. I think my place should be the gathering place because I have cable TV, Tivo, a stocked fridge and central heating and air and my dog. He wants his place because that's where the beer is and his bed is bigger (but my sheets are cleaner).

Begrudgingly, I walk into his apartment. It takes me a few minutes to notice that he bought scented candles and had them lit in every room. In the bathroom was a brand new bottle of strawberry-scented bubble bath that I use when I'm over there. He tried to make it a nice place for me. I need to remember that next time we bicker over who is going to drive all three miles to the other person's place.

He smiled and kissed me at the door and playfully tugged me on the couch so he could finish Cops before we went to dinner. He was trying. It's all that I asked.

At dinner he ordered the same fruity rum drink I ordered followed by the same sandwich and side I ordered. "I must have good taste," I remarked.

"Why?"

"I ordered the rum drink and so did you. I ordered the lobster roll and so did you." I paused. "I like you and you like you."

"I like you too," he said sincerely.

Sunday morning I sit on the edge of his bed and begin getting dressed. As I tugged my last shoe on and stood up, he said quietly, "I have a job interview tomorrow."

I whirled around. "WE JUST SPENT THE LAST 18 HOURS TOGETHER AND YOU TELL ME THIS NOW?!"

He must have been wanting to tell me and waited until the very last possible second before gaining the courage.

He's trying. And it was all that I asked.