The Moment You Know You’re in Love.

I started off writing about St. Patrick’s Day and its significant weight in my life, the steps I took to overcome that weight or at least carry it so it was manageable. And then I gave up on that. Because fuck that. I’m going to talk about something else.

I was reading an article yesterday about the moment you know you’re in love. I remember that moment clearly for my own self. It was sudden and there were pieces of my life falling like rain, cleansing me of St. Patrick’s Day, and toxic girls and everything else that plagued and stressed me out before that moment. The moment you’re in love doesn’t erase or negate your baggage, but in that moment, it makes it possible for once, to not focus on your baggage, but rather to focus on waking up and stepping outside into the sunshine and vividly seeing your life re-opening. You are in the summer of your life, but once again, falling in love feels like your springtime.

We had gone out that night for the first time in a while; we met up at this ridiculous bar on Davie Street called Lickerish which has paintings of famous rappers on the walls and plays vintage sleazy rap music with accompanying videos on screens all over the place. There’s also paintings of licorice candy on the wall. It looks a bit like an erotic torture chamber inside with blood red lighting and black fixtures. And there was almost nobody here but us. We sat in the corner drinking cheap pints and getting a bit tipsy and chatting. We knew our fate: we were together in this beautiful, amazing city for only a short while longer. Then in December, he was going to move and I was still going to be here. We had only been together for a few months. We were kind of green.

“I wanted to check in with you because I want to do right by you,” he said. “Because with me moving away, this could end. Two years of me being away is a long time,” he said. And in that moment I felt like I wanted more than anything to pause all this, stop all this, rewind back to the time we met and do… something. I don’t know what. Something preventative.

But what I told him instead was this: I don’t give up easily. And if I was someone he saw as valuable and important in his life at the time when he moved away, I would do everything in my power to demonstrate my commitment.

The night carried on, resulting in the two of us getting quite drunk; we exchanged personal stories, our dark secrets, our dating histories, our creative writing, kisses, held hands and late-night drunk food. We woke up the next morning in my bed with the sun coming through the window. I was heading to Jasper that day, just for the weekend to visit my family. Before I left, we went for coffee down the street. We sat outside on the patio and had a nice sober chat about our families and goals, what we wanted to be when we grew up versus where we ended up now, our hopes and fears about the future. On my way out of the city I drove him home, dropped him off, we kissed goodbye and I lent him my keys for the weekend in case he needed a quiet place to work that was away from home. As I pulled out of my parking spot and heading toward the Trans-Canada highway, I realized it: I love this man. I love him. I love him more than anything or anyone. He makes me feel safe, empowered, and special. He makes me feel valuable. He makes me feel like I could do better and be better. He is making me re-evaluate my goals and ambitions and lifestyle in order to allow him as much as possible to be a part of my life, not because I needed him there. Not because he needed me to be there. But because I wanted him there.

I came home that night and had some drinks with my mom. And I told her: I’m going to move back to Alberta. And she could see in my eyes that I was in love, that I was committed, that I was happy. And, that I wast terrified. And she told me, rather than being terrified, I should enjoy the moment for what it is, and not be terrified of what it could be. Because being in love is the best feeling in the world and it should make me feel amazing and happy and uplifted.

So I did enjoy the moment.

I’m still enjoying the moment.

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4 thoughts on “The Moment You Know You’re in Love.

    1. It was the day I got dumped by my first love. He took me out for hot chocolate and high-fived off the relationship. That’s how.

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