I wanted to take a break from writing the typical editorial and focus on a bit of writing that I often find solace in.
We tend to find ourselves day dreaming about that perfect love story that we wish to have at some point in our life.
Some often only experience the thought of it, where others simply live it – day in, day out.
Where else did all those romantic love stories come from? They were lived through those whom aspired to have a love that was so often written about rather than experienced of course.
True love brought to you from the hopeless romantics out there – I can honestly say I am one of them.
During my 27 years I have searched high and low for a love that would make my heart flutter, my knees buckle and my eyes sparkle.
I believe I had it once. I’m sure you’re wondering why that love is no longer present in my life and why I find myself writing about it rather than living it.
For all you skeptics out there, I’m going to share my love story with you all in hopes that you can believe it truly does exist.
It was a typical Ontario winter. Road conditions were less than ideal, however, I found myself plowing through the snow covered highways to Peterborough, Ontario, where my final destination would be at the home of a young man that would have me falling head over heels the very moment he would peak his head out the door.
The evening started off a quiet one. We were both shy at dinner; nonetheless, we exchanged the odd smile when we caught one another’s eye, the highlight of dinner that would make those quiet lulls nothing less than perfect.
Afterwards, we drove to the local Tim Hortons where we grabbed two hot chocolates to go.
Eventually we made it down to the canal, where we scuffled across the frozen river to then find ourselves on the other side making our way down a snow covered path.
He offered me one of his gloves so that my hand wouldn’t get cold as I held my hot chocolate – a moment that displayed a true gentlemen.
As we continued to walk we opened up to one another and shared a few laughs as we told stories of our lives in hopes to better acquaint ourselves with one another.
As we made our way back across the ice, he paused, grabbed my hand and with a quick shuffle of his feet we danced beneath the stars.
In that moment I couldn’t help but feel I was the luckiest girl for I found my other half in just a few short hours.
As many dates do, the end of ours came far too quickly. I found myself back on the road home with stars in my eyes and butterflies in my heart.
We spent five years together to find ourselves in different places near the end.
Being a recent graduate I had the determination to find myself a place in the print industry, where he was obligated to take over the family business, leaving him confined to his hometown.
We no longer fit in one another’s life, which only meant one thing – we would go our separate ways.
It wasn’t that we fell out of love; it was that we loved each other enough to know what was best for the both of us.
We remain good friends; we share our life stories and what we aspire for our futures ahead.
Sometimes it’s where we find ourselves after love that allows us to appreciate the time we had when it is present in our lives.
Believe in it for it’s out there. It may not present itself in that fairy tale way that you read about in books or see on the big screen – it’s your version, the ultimate fairytale.