It’s a cloudy, stay-at-home day in the Czech Republic, and I feel like doing nothing more than writing.
Since I haven’t quite completed my traveling journey, I guess my only other option is to tell my love story. It has ups, it has downs, it has some “Wow!” moments and some “Whoooaaa, there!” moments, but altogether, I look back and I see something beautiful and I’m not ashamed to share it.( Everything I say, I share not to give any shock factor or bragging rights. But I happen to believe that if even one person reads my story and finds encouragement from its honesty, it will have been worth it.)
Three months ago, I was feeling pretty desperate. I was 24, with a job that was falling through the cracks and no potential changes or exciting prospects on the horizon. I needed to get away. To rest, re-evaluate what I wanted from my life and figure out just how much of that I was responsible for reaching out and grabbing myself – and what should be left up to God.
Out of this perfect storm was born my “A Barista’s Guide To Staying Single Without Really Trying.” I meant for it to be funny and satirical, and I believe it came across that way. But ultimately, I decided that I was no longer going to look for a man to share my life with. He was going to have to come find me. I was tired of playing the game and being constantly disappointed, of immediately assuming that someone’s friendship towards me was something more and it wasn’t.
So I did two things.
I gave up.
And I ran away.
Just to my hometown located 4 1/2 hours away, but it would be my first roadtrip by myself, to have nothing to do for two weeks but take care of a puppy and hopefully come away a different person.
But first, I sent an email. It was a perfectly innocent little email, floating around in cyberspace and making its way to my friend Steven. We had been friends for almost 3 years already, and we met because he was engaged to one of my friends…until she broke it off 6 weeks before the wedding to be with another guy. In this story, she shall remain nameless. She’s not as bad as, say Voldemort, but still.
Anyway. I knew how devastated he’d been and I had not said hello in quite awhile. I started feeling an urge in my heart that I should, just to see how he was doing lately. It had been almost a year since he’d gotten dumped and we’d talked, so I put it off, feeling that it might be awkward. Were we really still friends now that Nameless One was no longer in the picture?
I waited for a few days. And then this bomb fell via Facebook:
Nameless One is engaged to Other Nameless One.
Poor Steven! I thought. I should really say hi to him now. So it went something like this: “Hey, Steve, just thought I’d say hi and see how you were doing lately, especially with Nameless One’s news today. Hope you’re doing all right.”
His reponse: “Hey, it’s so good to hear from you! I have been doing great. I have so many good friends who have helped me through this tough season, and my job is really starting to pick up. I’m happy again. I haven’t been in contact with Nameless One for a long time, what’s happened? I hope she’s okay.”
Well, way to open your mouth and insert your FOOT IN IT, GIRLFRIEND.
I had to tell him. It wasn’t fun. But it was the start of a very long conversation – which was, by the way, a mere 12 days after I wrote that blog about my #foreveralone-ness. It continued into my roadtrip home and extended into the two weeks I was there. But I was going to be good this time around. No assuming, no jumping to conclusions, just talking and friendship.
My devout new stance was quickly shaken when I not only got an email from him every day, but started getting like 10 notifications about him liking/commenting on a status, liking/commenting on a new picture, liking/commenting on a picture I put up AGES ago…it was weird. I was like, is this what flirting in the 21st century looks like? So, already knowing that I liked him and could easily fall for him, I did what every mature young lady does to express interest in a man: I started “liking” everything on his page, whether new or months old. CAN YOU FEEL MY FLIRTATIOUSNESS. (I literally cannot flutter my eyelashes or be coy if I tried, so this honestly works out better for me.)
Step 2 of showing flirtatious interest in boy: make a video of oneself doing something absolutely ridiculous as a test of his apparent favour upon you.
Yes. I made a video. For the whole world to see, I made up my own dance to a Carman song and kind of rocked it. Deep inside, I told myself, if he still talks to me after seeing this, he might be interested. If he mentions it in his next email, then I really might start thinking something is up.
Video was liked, mentioned, and praised for having totally original, quality dance moves.
Battleship Carly is going down. This is too much to handle for my poor, immediately assuming brain. STOP BEING SO NICE YA JERK. I wanted to say something so badly, but I told myself that would be a bad plan.
My well-constructed resilience held out until April Fool’s Day, 3 weeks after we started talking. (Which, I admit, is kind of a record for me.) My holiday was almost over, we had been talking/texting/communicating in some form every day, and we were now talking about visiting each other sometime. I knew I would be in Vancouver on the way to Europe six weeks after that, but he said that was too long of a wait. I agreed! Dude, if you make me wait another six weeks without saying anything, I am going to have a cow.
But before that night was over, our cards were on table and oh, hey look, they are the same cards.
Does that mean we win something?
To be continued…