“Get ready to look up,” he leaned down real close and whispered in my ear.
His words hit my neck and rolled down my spine, all the way to my toes it seemed. He was already on a roll that night, but what a line. We were squished together in a set of revolving doors, spinning out of Denver’s chilly evening air and into the bright, warm, beautiful lobby of The Brown Palace, one of our last stops on my very own personal tour of the city.
And so I looked up.
A sparkling chandelier the size of a tiny house hung a couple stories above our heads. It was adorned with green garland, red ribbons, and twinkling holiday lights. I could feel him staring at me staring at the ceiling.
And so I smiled.
“Oh…wow,” was all I managed to squeak out.
The whole night—and our last three dates—was like that. One surprise after another. Here we were exploring a city late on a Sunday night. Here he was cooking me dinner and ordering Ubers. Here I was letting go. Starting over. Moving on.
A year ago in Tampa I was in the throes of a terrible breakup. Balled up on my bedroom floor in a pile of hurt, knees against my heaving chest, I’d sob uncontrollably into a pillow until the sleeping pills kicked in. It was the only way to get some rest, night after awful, painful night.
The only photo I managed to take that night. The court house was all lit up for Christmas. It is even better in person!
The twinkling chandelier wasn’t the only surprise that evening, or the way he opened my door, or challenged my Tour de France opinions. But that I’d met someone, and I was open to it and every part of me showed up for this new chapter.
I don’t have the best track record of saying yes to things, or even yes to myself. But, surprise, I YES-ed the hell out of these dates because my NOes haven’t gotten me anywhere. I gave myself permission to find someone else and convince myself I deserve to be happy right now despite the regrettable choices I’ve made in the past.
Hours and so much fun later, we stared at downtown Denver from his rooftop deck and the streets we strolled earlier in the evening.
In the moment, I wished this Lindsay, could hold year-ago Lindsay on her bedroom floor and rock her and tell her things will be ok. They would. Eventually. And I wished this Lindsay could’ve sat with year-ago Lindsay in all her pain and held her hand and told her surprises of epic proportions would make up for the hurt and the loss and the mistakes.
Year-ago Lindsay is still in me because getting over past relationships isn’t an overnight thing. But it is a possible thing, and it is surprising what the heart can endure and overcome.
@mindfulmft She is the beeesssst.
Push on, PUSH ANIMALS >>>