The Good Story- Part II

I have been staring at the screen for 10 minutes, trying to think of a way to start this post. The only word I can think of is 'speechless'..So I am just going to dive into the middle of it, and hope that one way or the other, the words will all fall into the right place..
The Italian came to see me..

In anticipation of his arrival, I had gone absolutely crazy. Was this a mistake? What am I getting myself into? What if I don't like him, and I am stuck with him for 3 days? What if I like him too much then he goes away? What if he doesn't like me? What if we don't understand each other? A million 'what-if's ran through my head and I felt panic slowly creeping into my very core.

But, I was a big girl, and I was ready to face it, no matter how it turned out to be. So on the day of his arrival, I kept myself as busy as I possibly can, until the time came for me to pick him up from the airport..

It was very crowded and I had to wait for an hour, which, in heels, didn't help my panic attacks. Finally, and after what seemed like forever, my chef stepped out.

The minute he saw me, I saw a big smile on his face, as he ran (literally ran!) to me, and hugged me! In that specific moment, I realized all my panics were ridiculous, and that I was really looking forward to the time we were to spend together..

All I can say was the time we had was perfect..

I know nothing is perfect. Of all people, I have been through so much, and heard so much, that I know that things aren't usually pink and fluffy, especially when two people barely know one another. But, my chef left me no choice.. It was indeed perfect..

I was amazed at how comfortable the conversations were, like old friends meeting, despite the language barriers which actually gave us a lot of good laughs.. I had been taking Italian lessons for over a month now, and even though I mastered days of the week and numbers, I, not surprisingly, still can't understand everything he says. I practiced 'non capisco' a lot though, and it came in quiet handy.

For 3 days, I lived a fairy tale in every sense of the word.

But, I am a woman, and we are complicated creatures, and so there is a backstage to this story..
Since he left a few days back, I have managed to torture myself with thoughts of my previous relationships, and how they ended. In the most important relationship that I have had so far, I was rejected painfully, and paid a very high price for being so oblivious to it at the time.

Since then, my biggest fear is to face something similar. I have decided that nothing is worth the pain that came after that relationship. That price was too high, and I wish and pray heartily that I never have to pay it again. The sound of reason (and of my friend) tells me that this is not my previous relationship. My chef is not my ex.. And so, I try to balance my thoughts, by hoping for a different outcome this time.

My chef is very romantic, and very thoughtful. Yet, I have this feeling that I am not the heroine of this story myself, but rather, that I am watching from the outside, waiting for the finale. In certain moments, it is a grand finale of birds and bells and songs and rainbows. But in other moments, it is a sad girl shocked and left out, alone. This thought scares me, freezes me, and makes me want to stop here.. Right now.. Before I get there.

It is a lot easier to be single. It is easier to blame the universe for not giving me love in my life. It is much easier to have control on everything in my life, then decide to let down my guards and go with a flow that I don't know the ending of.

But do I want the easy route? Do I really and truly believe that this is a risk that isn't worth taking? Well, the chef is not making it an easy decision. I am flying back home in a 11 days, and he is once again taking a plane, crossing the seas and the mountains, to see me.

Why do we women question our self worth? I am great at giving pep talks to my girlfriends, and I genuinely believe they are worth fighting for, and worth tremendous amounts of love in their life. Why is it difficult sometimes to believe the same for myself?

Now that I have taken the time to dwell in self-pity and misery, I am giving myself a good shake, and writing down what I vow to think, act and live for now..

I am going to enjoy the beautiful story that I have, and the journey that is slowly and perfectly unfolding under my very eyes. I am going to try hard to push the negative thoughts away and attract positive ones into this and into my life. I am focusing on the journey, not the destination. I am enjoying this, with every sense of the word, and nothing will spoil it for me. Especially not someone who had already caused enough damage.

As my chef said in his last message before his plane took off: If this is right, it will be.. This is the start of the beautiful story..

It may not be perfect English, but to me, it makes perfect sense..