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.: The Story of how Sugar-Butt & I came to be...Awwww.... :.

Why is it that you have to find all of the wrong guys out there before you find that one special one that was molded just for you? Do you realize how much time we could save, not to mention heart and headaches, if we found our soul mate early on in our lives? I can�t tell you how much time I have wasted in this lifetime on all the �wrong� ones. Enough for you and me combined I am sure.

I can�t recall ever not having a boyfriend. Now I know that sounds bad, but hear me out. Those puppy love, grade school crushes don�t count. I mean seriously, its not like you ever could go anywhere or be alone. I think my first �serious� boyfriend was in the 10th grade. He was everything a girl could possibly want at the age of 15, blond hair, blue eyes, killer personality. I thought I was in love for all of two years. Now in preteen years, that�s like 5 years, but as do most things in life at that age, we grew up and grew apart. No animosity, we just grew up and both knew that this wasn�t going to be a forever thing. Then there was the post-preteen boyfriend. It�s that age where hormones are raging, you�re happy, you�re sad. Drama, drama, drama. This consisted of a lot of emotional days, sleepless nights and then finally a painful, yet much needed, breakup. There were many more in between the ages of 18 & 20, but none that are worth writing about or immortalizing.

Finally, at the ripe age of 20 it happened. I met a guy that drove me up the wall, but not in a good way by any means. I couldn�t stand him. He was obnoxious, loud, and not to mention, not my type at all. Since we had mutual friends, it was inevitable that we would hang out together. Then like mold on bread, he grew on me. His annoying personality became more tolerable, and usually made me laugh. I somehow ended up on a date with him and had a really good time. We dated for a while and both were tired of the dating scene and after a year of seeing each other exclusively figured, �Hey, why don�t we get married?� So, thinking we were mature enough to handle something like marriage, we held our breath and took a dive into what at the time didn�t appear to be an empty pool.

Like any relationship there were ups and there were downs, just like a ride at an amusement park. I guess my first clue that this was headed towards doom was the fact he joined the Marine Corp a month after we got married. I must have been crazy to think that he would want to spend some time with his new wife! I think the funniest thing about that relationship is that we were completely wrong for each other. Of all the wrong ones, he was the wrongest of the wrong (I know that isn�t a word, but that�s how wrong he was). It was kind of like being married to your brother, as weird and incestuous as that may seem. There was no real �relationship� per say. No husbandy, wifey aspect to it at all. We were �buddies� and that was it. We did care about each other very much, but I think we both knew at the beginning that we weren�t cut out to be married to each other. I knew it on my wedding day, and some reason still went through with it. I have learned that is one of my biggest flaws. Not marrying the wrong people, because I have only done that once, but doing something I don�t want to do because I think its the right thing to do at the present time or because I don�t want to cause controversy. My marriage taught me many things though; ironically it showed me that I was able to be independent and I was a lot stronger than I ever gave myself credit for being. It brought me many places that I would probably never get to see if I were alone, but most importantly, it led me to the man I was searching for my whole life.

At the time, I was living in Hawaii, one of the nicer places the Marine Corp decided to plop us. My ex and I weren�t exes yet, but soon on our way. I was living on my own in a townhouse on the Windward side of the island of Oahu. While living there, I worked for a car dealership and made a lot of what I thought at the time were friends. One girl in particular had also just recently moved there for a guy she had just met on her senior trip (high school senior, that is). Little did I know, soon I would be referring to her as the Spawn of Satan. Well, the S of S and I started hanging out and eventually became neighbors. During this whole time, her boyfriend was over seas fighting for our freedom. We spent hours upon hours talking about my failed marriage and her wonderfully, perfect, guitar playing, guy I have been looking for my whole life and I was falling in love with from the stories, boyfriend. I finally got to meet Mr. Perfect the day after he got home. Now, from here on out I am going to sound like a horrible, backstabbing, bitch. And rightfully so, but the minute he walked in the door, I physically had to pick my jaw up off the floor and pry my kung foo death grip stare off of him. It was like God had finally heard my prayers and quickly got some clay and threw together this perfect being that was standing before me.

Ugh, the whole night, I felt so uncomfortable. I�m not sure if it was the guilt or the undeniable attraction that made me feel so uneasy. In 23 years, I had never felt so nervous or been so aware of every action I made or every word that passed between my lips. I felt like I was 13 again and the most popular boy in school just asked me to pass him a note. I had those butterflies that just wouldn�t go away and I wasn�t sure if I was going to throw up or spontaneously combust. Over the next few months, we got to know each other a lot better and really enjoyed each others company. I can�t recall a day that had gone by since we met that I didn�t see him at some point. As our friendship grew, so did the flirtatiousness. I know it is so cliche�, but nature took its course and yes, things just kind of happened. It wasn�t planned or even discussed. Fate just smacked us up side the head. You see, the S of S was nothing like either of us. In fact, I think I could honestly say that she was the complete opposite. And she knew it; she had even made a comment on how if they weren�t together we would be perfect for each other. She had no idea how right she was.

It was July 4th and we all decided to go and see the fireworks at the closest beach. Once we got there, it was so crowded that you couldn�t find a place to park for miles, so we decided to take a drive up towards the North Shore. A few beers later, we piled back into the truck and headed back to my place. At this time, the two of them were staying with me until the townhouse next door was available. Like most nights, the S of S got pissed off for not getting her way and decided she wanted to go to bed early. This was the first time I really got to talk to him alone. We talked from 9pm until 7am about anything and everything under the sun. Being with him felt like home. I was able to be the person I had suppressed for so many years and have always wanted to be. No fronts, no gimmicks, just me. I had never wanted the sun to not come up like I did that morning. Every second that I spent with him was a second more of my life that I got back. Once the light began to shine through the shades, I felt my heart sink. I knew that I would have to ignore all the feelings that I had found that night. I would have to go back into hiding. Then it happened. I�m not sure who initiated it, but someway, our lips found each other and we made fireworks of our own. From that moment on, I knew that my life would never be the same and no matter what the outcome, there would be no regrets. I would be a better and wiser person for getting the chance to be near him.

As time passed, we were finding it harder and harder to hide our feelings for each other. Mutual friends picked up on the vibe we were un-noticeingly throwing out. We would think of anything that we could to get to be alone, even if it was for just a minute or two. We needed a common interest that we could use to be together. I had always been attracted to the guitar (and the person playing it in this case) and wanted to learn. Lucky for me, Mr. Perfect was more than willing to teach me how to play and would use our �practicing� as an excuse to come over and spend time together. We did practice the guitar, but I really don�t think I learned as much as I could have if I had had an ugly teacher. I think the first time I knew that I loved him was when we were practicing at my house. S of S was sitting on the couch watching TV complaining about something and I was sitting in the attached dining room practicing my chords. He walked over to me and took my left hand. He move one of my fingers on the D chord and the other on the B. While looking into my eyes and still touching my hand he said, �Don�t ever forget these two chords. These are the two most important for you to know.� I know it doesn�t sound like much to many people, but his funny little symbolism reassured me that we were going to be okay. He was right D & B would be etched into my soul until the day I die and like those two chords, no one could ever come between them no matter how hard they tried.

God had answered my years of prayers. Over the next few months we fell even more in love and planned on spending the rest of our lives together. We knew that it was sudden and that it was complicated, but we just knew that we couldn�t deny what we felt for each other. It was more than physical; it was more than emotional. It was spiritual and unconditional. The next few months were going to be the hardest that we would have to face in our relationship. Loving someone, but having to let them go home to someone else. Knowing that even though he was next to me when I closed my eyes and fell asleep, I would be waking up alone. Somehow, we pulled through the next few months.

We decided we had to make it known that we were going to be together, for good. He had planned on telling the S of S, and I figured that since he had to leave for another deployment, I would leave the island. At that point, if he wasn�t there, there was no real point in me staying either. The day came that we had to say goodbye and as painful as it was to watch that bus pull away, it was also a feeling of relief. We would be apart for 7 months, but at the end of that 7 months, it all would be worth the wait. This time, he would be coming home to me.

We must have spent over a thousand dollars in phone bills while he was gone. We talked everyday, just to say �I love you� or �I�m thinking of you.� That was the slowest 7 months ever! Finally the day had come that I got to pick him up from the airport. I had made plans for the weekend to stay in a nice hotel, just so we could be alone and get to learn each other again. I went to pick him up from the airport and felt the very feeling I felt the day we met. I wasn�t sure if I was going to be sick or pass out. I was in and out of the bathroom, checking my hair, then my makeup, then my dress. I was up, then down. The anxiety of seeing him again was killing me.1: 25 rolled around and people started coming out of the terminal. I found myself hiding behind a kiosk of magazines so I could see him before he saw me. I thought that for sure I was going to toss my cookies. And there he was in his entire splendor and tiredness I must add. As I watched him walking towards me through the terminal, I had never had such a feeling of completeness. We finally made it. We were together again, just like it was meant to be. My body formed right into his, just like I remembered. I was so afraid to let him go, but wanted to give him a kiss, so I needed to loosen the death grip. We commented on how this was the first time in our relationship that we had been really alone together and were overcome with relief. He was finally here with me and he wouldn�t have to leave.

I really thought that things were going to be awkward since we hadn�t seen each other for so long, but it was home again. I felt whole and comfortable. We quickly gathered up his bags and headed to the hotel. That first night alone with him was more than I could ever hope for. For so long all I wanted was to be able to fall asleep in his arms and when I woke up have him there lying beside me. Somehow, I did fall asleep that night. I woke up early and was safely in his arms for the first time and I was able to just lie there and take it all in. Even now when I think back to that night, it seems so surreal, almost like it was taken out of a movie. I never knew that love was something that you could actually feel, physically speaking. With him, I can feel love. That�s something I never knew was possible.

Being in love with him has changed my life forever. He has given me the greatest gift in the world. He has given me life. He has given me hope. I am able to depend on someone and know without a doubt that he will always be there for me. No one has ever loved me the way that he does. His love is undeniable and unquestionable. I can tell by the way he looks at me, the way he touches me, the way he watches me when I am sleeping, the way that even though he may not be right next to me, I still can feel his presence in every ounce of my soul.

Over the past year and a half, I have learned more about myself than I have in the past 25 years combined. I finally have my priorities straight. I know that it doesn�t matter anymore what I turn out to be when I �grow up� as long as I am happy. I have learned that I want to be a good wife and a good mother above all. I don�t want a lot of money so I am able to buy a big house; I want to be comfortable in a place that we have made a home. How is it that one person can change your whole life and direction?

I know that there are many things that we could have done differently in our relationship. I still am plagued with guilt for not being honest from the beginning with all that were involved. But on the other hand, I am a strong believer in fate, and I think that things happen for a reason. This was fate. No questions asked. End of story.

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.: 10:06 p.m. :.
.: January 31, 2004 :.

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.: yin :: yang :.