how fast can you fall in love?

Day 1

I meet the cowboy on a widow/widowers social group. His story is similar to my own. He is a bit older and had been married a bit longer. He has been alone 4 years to my 2. 

There is something so likable about him that I feel compelled to send him a message. 

“We are no where near each other geographically, but we have a lot in common. If I’m too forward, if you don’t like me, it’s alright because I’m ok where I am in life.” 

He replies. He tells me more. He asks questions. With as much candor as I can muster, I respond. 

Confession time. I wonder if this cowboy is real. Not that the cowboy is a fraud. It’s easy to tell from a search that the name represents a real person, and the picture matches the name. But is this person, the one I am talking to, really this particular cowboy?

Day 2

He tells me about his knee surgery and his eye appointment. Tells me to check out his cattle drive video. Shares pix of his grandkids. Little tan boots. hmmmmm He seems real, but I'm still cautious.

He'd like to chat more, so we start. Right then.

Day 3 . . .

He travels. I work. We chat and share more.

A dinner discussion leads to sharing the things we miss about our spouses, ways we've coped, what we like to eat, gardening, squirrels. Yes, squirrels. 

What do you do for fun?

Are you planning on retiring?

Do you like music? Dancing? Playing sports? The theater?

Tell me about your family, your needs, your desires. 

Lattes? Really, Cowboy? No black coffee full of grounds straight from a pot on an open fire?

Tell me what keeps you up at night.

Well, right now, it’s you that turns a good night’s sleep into tossing and turning with dreams of love.

Can we talk via video?

Baseball. Songs. So many songs.

Our ages linked in the 40 year time span his new knee is supposed to last. 

Did my heart just flutter?

Talk of stealing a kiss as I wrestle with the power washer. 

100s of things to tell. 1000s of things to ask. 

Friends notice a difference in me. I’m smiling more. Laughing.

Is this really unfolding?

Should I pinch myself and wake up.

Absolutely not. 

If it’s a dream, I’ll just stay here a while longer and enjoy it.

Day 9 

A video call.

Business like. He presents a three-point plan. What are those points again? I don’t remember a single one. A power point would certainly have helped my memory. 

There is a big room. No, a huge room. A very handsome man. 

My excited realization that he is exactly the charming, loving, caring man he portrayed himself to be. 

Tell me about your faith. Can you love me as Christ loves the church?

Confessions. Tears. I remember tears.

And a need for the cowboy to go up to the mountain to pray.

Days 10 . . .

Meet in Nashville?

How many days to wait? 

Has anyone ever exploded from anticipation. I’d hate to be the first on that front.

How many questions can we ask? 

How many times can we talk?

How much information can we share?

At some point in these days, I realize that I am in love with the cowboy. 

In love with a man that I’ve only talked to on the phone. 

Am I crazy? 

I should go ahead and pinch myself before I get hurt. 

Wake up silly girl, wake up. 

This must be a dream. It is entirely too wonderful to be reality.

There will be something that doesn’t work. 

Some piece that won’t fit. 

Some action that will make me pull back.

Some movement to make him realize that he was infatuated, and infatuation always comes to an end. 

Go ahead. Pinch yourself and put this delusion of happiness, of this amazing man, out of your head. 

Day 19 

This is the day. 

What would the cowboy like to see when he first lays his eyes on me? 

Will he take me in all at once? Will he focus on my face? My shoes?

Will we even recognize each other? After all, we are physical strangers. 

What expectations do I have? There are millions and absolutely none all at the same time. 

His flight is delayed again and again. 

I wait patiently in the baggage claim with a silly sign I made from one of the first songs he sent me. 

Unsure if he will ever really arrive. 

Unsure of so many things. 

Anticipation and doubt both rise at the same time. 

I’d planned to play it cool. 

He’ll see me, and I’ll wait patiently for him to take his long strides across the floor to me. 

The me that’s waiting. 

The me that’s longing to hold him. 

The me that knows he’s not a stranger at all, hasn’t been from our very first conversation. 

The me that doesn’t want this to be a dream. 

Finally! There he is. That one, oh so enchanting, cowboy in his black hat.

The one smiling. The smile that melted my heart in every picture he sent me. 

And he heads straight toward me. He knows me as sure as I know him.

My idea of waiting patiently is impractical. 

I just can’t. 

So I walk. I walk straight to him. Straight into his arms. 

We kiss. We kiss like we’ve loved each other for ages. 

Just like God has a plan for us that doesn’t involve earthly time.