When “one day” finally arrives.
It’s been over three weeks since I’ve blogged and you can blame Paul for it, if you want. He had the nerve to move across the ocean so he could make me the happiest girl on the block. How dare he, right?
Actually, if Paul was writing this post, he would tell you that just the other night, he looked at me while we were watching tv (we get to watch tv together! because we live in the same country now!) and said “You really need to write a blog post.” He was right, of course, and here I am.
I’m actually writing this from 35,000 feet in the air. Yesterday morning, I hopped on a plane in Chattanooga, flew to St. Louis, photographed a 7 pm wedding, got a few hours of sleep and am now back on a plane to get myself home to a certain British man and two little puppies who are waiting for me. I can’t wait to get home, unpack my carry-on bag, upload the pictures I took and then ask Paul where he’s taking me out to dinner tonight.
Speaking of dinner, it is my duty to tell you of some miraculous happenings that have occurred in my kitchen. Paul has been living in the US for three weeks now and (prepare yourself) I have cooked approximately 15 dinners AND ONLY BURNED ONE. It would seem that the Lord really does hear the prayers of certain British men who call upon His name in times of need.
(Speaking of Paul praying, the other night when he was praying over our dinner, it went like this “And Lord, thank You for lowering the temperatures for your little British friend, Paul.”)
(I don’t know which I like more: the fact that he referred to himself as a “little British friend” of God’s or the fact that he felt the need to identify himself by name in case there were multiple British men named Paul also thanking the Lord for lower temperatures.)
(Fun fact: Paul has never lived in a home where an air conditioner was installed because, in the part of England he lived in, temperatures were mild enough that in-home air conditioners were not needed.)
I’m getting a little ahead of myself, I guess, since I haven’t even told you about the day Paul got here. It was a Friday evening and I wore the same dress to the airport that I wore the day we met in person, which also happened to be an airport. A few hours before I left to meet his flight, I got a call asking if I would mind taking an extra member of the welcoming committee with me. You might recognize her…
It has been over a year since Aviean has been in my life (for reasons out of my control). I have ended up seeing her twice recently, with the second time being the day she came with me to pick-up Paul from the airport. Ironically, I have mentioned multiple times to Paul that it is really important to me for him to meet each of the fab five at some point and he has said that it was important to him, too. So, when I got the call that she would be with me, I knew he would be shocked to find her standing beside me in the airport.
He was shocked and we had a great reunion with a little Aviean squeezed between our hugging. Aviean ended up staying with us until very late that night which was pretty hilarious given that Paul and I hadn’t seen each other in over three months. Nothing says romance like greeting your fiancé at the airport with “Hey baby, you don’t mind if a six year old shares our first evening together, right?”
Paul didn’t care, because that’s the kind of man he is, of course. The three of us went out to dinner together and then came home so Snuggles and Cuddles could join in on the reunion. I kept looking around my living room thinking “I can’t believe Paul is here!” followed by “Wait, I can’t believe Aviean is here, either!”
I can’t believe Paul is here to stay. Some days it feels like he has been here forever and then there are days where I get tears in my eyes while we’re eating dinner together because I start remembering just how many dinners I have eaten alone hoping that one day there would be someone sitting across from me. And now, that “one day” has finally come.
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