Reading French Poetry in Bed

In several posts I’ve promised to tell you a little more of the love story I’m living right now.  Here’s a little bit of the beginning.

There’s always a moment when the next step in your life becomes inexplicably clear.  From something that had crossed your mind, a little shadow in a fog, to something right in front of you filling your view of the world.  Suddenly all of the necessary details, good and bad, are examinable.  All you have to do is reach out and take it, make a phone call, say yes.

I have this book of French poetry.  Each poem is printed twice, on opposing pages.  Once in French, which I read out loud to practice my pronunciation, and once in English, which I can use to reference the translation of words I don’t know.  This particular night I was reading in bed when I thought to myself how happy I was.  ”I’d rather be doing this tonight than anything else,” I thought.  Even further went my mind.  ”I’d rather be alone and doing this than doing something different with someone.”  Obviously, I struggle less with loneliness than the average human.  ”But, if there was someone who would be just as happy as I am doing just this very thing with me, that would be ok, too.”

And that’s when the picture became clear.  There was someone who was still a shadow in life.  Then a picture of him became clear in my mind and I knew: he would be happy to be reading french poetry with me as well as many other things I value just as highly.  In many ways, we were a unique and perfect fit.  Then it was right in front of me.  He was the one.  The only thing about someone being your “one” is that they have to think you’re their “one” too, and his moment hadn’t come yet.  But at least now I knew how I felt.  I knew the coordinates of my heart on the map.

Not long later, lightning struck.  I don’t know what his moment was, but I know there was one.  Out of the blue he called to confess he was done living out of fear: fear of failing, of disappointing me.  He was choosing love.

And now? We’re in different cities but that will be changing soon, and the French poetry readings will commence.

What’s an important snap-into-focus moment you’ve experienced?