Ka-Pow

"It should have been simply a one-night stand."  He said that as we were facetiming after a particularly hard discussion about where our relationship was not going.

It was the first glimpse into what I believe was his original intent when we met.  How were we supposed to know though that it was going to be far more than a simple one-night stand?  How do we ever know?

Ka-Pow
He was leaning on the back of my bar stool when I returned from dancing.  He was talking to another girl.  I slipped into my seat and smiled up at him.  I said, "Hi I'm the Minivan Philosopher."  He smiled back and said,"Hi I'm the Multinational Special Agent."  I grinned, ahh a british accent!  And said coyly, "you're not from here are you?"  He replied, "No. I'm from London."  And I was immediately intrigued.

Flirting commenced.  The other girl he had been speaking to attempted to bring his focus back to her but that was not happening.  Our conversation was flowing fast and furious.  We were making connection after connection as our lives and our interests were, frightenly, similarly aligned.  It was new, it was exciting.  And when he said he could dance the salsa and then proceeded to twirl me and dip me, I was hooked. 

Then the bar lights came up.  The band stopped playing.  And we stood there not wanting to leave each other yet.  So we continued on in his room since he was staying at the hotel.  I had never just gone with a man to his hotel room like that before.  I was nervous but I also wasn't ready to quit talking to him.  We were laughing so much.  He was getting my humor and I just loved hearing him say my name.  Only the British can make "Minivan Philosopher" sound sexy.

We talked for several more hours.  And when he finally leaned in to kiss me the first time, it was immediately apparent that not only were we matched perfectly in our intellect and humor but our kissing was electric too.

When I left to go home, we made plans to see each other the next night.  Again another magical night.  Again deeper connections intellectually, physically, emotionally.  And as I laid in his arms knowing I had to leave soon, tears began to flow from my eyes.  Why did someone so perfectly matched for me have to live 4,000 miles away?  Why?

He said to me as he walked me to my car, "I should take you up to the rooftop and propose to you."  I quickly answered into his ear, "I would say yes."  We exchanged kisses at my car, he kissed the tears running down my cheeks.  He held me tight.  I asked him to keep in touch.  I said I could not bear living without him in my life now that I had met him.  He squeezed me and said, "I'm here baby doll"

Since that night we met, he has talked to me every single day.  We have spent several days together on several occasions that continue to prove just how magical the love and connection that we have really is.  He has managed to make 4,000 miles disappear.  He does that with a lot of effort on his part, I know.

In that time, his complicated life situation (family, divorce- it's back on and it's back off, job - assignments: the multinational special agent goes places and sees things us ordinary humans would never go nor would ever want to see) has pulled on him and his desire to permanently erase the 4,000 miles between us.

So we laid there, fingers intertwined, I was cocooned in his arms, my tears drenching his chest, not wanting to let any minute or second pass by where I wasn't recording his every breath for my repository of Special Agent memories, and he said he had to go.  He said he had to leave me for now.  He said he planned to come get me and carry me with him when he got his life sorted.  We had talked about this before.  He had said all along it was going to be his plan after our last night together.  Still didn't make it hurt any less.  Still didn't keep our hearts from breaking into a million pieces.  Still didn't keep the sobs from flowing when we parted. 

The Multinational Special Agent did not intend to fall in love with me when we met.  He did not intend to find his heart and soul linked to mine in a way he had never experienced before.  He did not intend to miss me like he did.  Nor did I.

Now he is gone and I pick up the pieces of our shattered hearts not knowing which are his and which are mine but carefully blend them together where they have been since we met.  He is off saving the world and sorting his life.  While me, the Philosopher, reluctantly grieves.

No, this was never ever supposed to be a simple one-night stand.