* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
B and I met like many other couples do – at a party in college my Freshman year. Our meeting was inevitable – he played baseball, I was on the softball team – but the connection surprised everyone (especially myself). Soon we were off-campus neighbors, and soon after that we were “officially” dating. And finally, after much trepidation and analyzing, I admitted I was in love. And he agreed.
This is where things begin to tail-spin. After graduation, I accepted a full-time job and moved home. B still had two years of graduate school to finish, so we spent our weekends taking turns making the three hour round-trip drive to spend time together. After spending the last four years nearly inseparable, we had to learn to live alone again. B had classes, clinicals, and homework keeping him busy. I… adopted a dog. And began running.
I finished my first Half Marathon in May of ’09. B stood alone in the cold, early morning for two hours, waiting for me to finish. Despite the conditions, he was at that finish line like a beacon of light, beaming with pride. That race began our love-affair with running. They say it’s important to share interests with your significant other, and I whole-heartedly agree. We still share our love of baseball and a good craft beer, but having a mutual love for running has held us strong through our most trying times.
In November of ’09, armed with his final clinical assignment at Rainbow Babies and Childrens Hospital, B and I (and the adopted dog, Chico) moved back in together. We fell in love with our home, our new city, and our re-newed life together. In December, on vacation in Cancun, B proposed. I knew that marriage was in our future, but as he always seems to, B totally surprised me and left me speechless. We told everyone at the resort that we were “practicing” for our honeymoon. B was thrilled to rest easy through security for our return flight – the ring safely on my finger rather than hiding in his carry-on!
This is usually where the story free-falls into a slew of guest lists, engagement parties, and disagreements over cake flavors. In our case, shortly after setting the date (9/18/10), I was offered a job promotion. Included with the fancy new title and pay raise? A move to Southern California.
B was my rock during the weeks leading up to the move. For every “What if we hate California?” he replied “But what if we love it?” When I cried that “we’ll hardly see our friends and family!” he reassured me that “they’ll visit.” When I admitted I was scared to take such a huge leap, he told me it’d be ok, because “we’ll take it together.”
Just as soon as we thought we had life all planned out, my belongings were being shipped across the country, the wedding date moved back (7/3/11), and I was saying goodbye to my fiance for eight long weeks. B had another month and a half of clinicals, schoolwork, and testing to finish in Ohio. I had a new life to start carving for us on the west coast.
Those eight weeks were torturous. We got so sick of talking on the phone, eating dinner alone, and (in my case) saying “good night” on the phone, while eating dinner, alone. The days slowly turned to weeks, and eventually, after all the frustrations and tears, we were finally able to share those things again in person. And all was right in the world again.
We left behind everyone and everything to take on this new adventure, and an adventure it SURELY HAS been. One that I’m sure neither of us would have survived on our own.
So here we are. In the midst of planning our Cleveland wedding from 2,000 miles away. We are so looking forward to our wedding, and not for the reasons most couples do. July 3rd, 2011 will be a day about our love and life together, but it will also be our time to finally reunite with all those far-away friends we left so far behind.
For the love of love,
B, Chico, and Sarah (the Soon-To-Be’s!)