The First Visit

The First Visit

Well, pretty much nothing about this weekend went as planned, as the original plans didn’t include me puking. Nice, huh? Yes, I threw-up in front of him. It was like straight out of a movie, and if things work out between us, we will certainly never forget the first time we met.

He showed up on Thursday night with tulips, and some dutch pastries, as the town where he’s from is pretty proud of their dutch heritage, and he thought it would be nice to bring me a little taste of where he’s from. They are good, so I agree, and well, pretty much anytime a guy brings me flowers, it’s a good thing.

He wasn’t hungry when he got here, and so we sat around and chatted, left for a little bit to check him into the hotel where he was staying, and then came back to my place where we sat around and talked some more. Before we knew it, it was almost 1am, and my stomach was kind of bothering me. I told him, it was probably just cause I inadvertently didn’t end up eating anything all night long, and that my stomach had never seemed to entirely recover from India. I started munching on some crackers, and he left for the evening. I got in bed, still not feeling the best, but thinking, it wasn’t a huge deal, and I’d feel better in the morning. 45 minutes later, those crackers were coming back up. Awesome. I was up a couple more times in the night, but really thought it was just a temporary thing. By around 7am, I knew I wouldn’t be going to work (I work half days on Fridays, and he was just going to entertain himself til I was off), but I still somehow thought if I just rested that morning, I’d be feeling 100% again by that afternoon – I seemed confident that I was done with the puking. I sent him a text message, to fill him in on what was going on. He asked me if I needed anything, and then headed over to keep me company, and do whatever he could to take care of me.

I managed to make myself look somewhat presentable, or maybe better put at least appropriate. Figured we’d spend the morning watching a movie, and I could rest, and then by the afternoon or at least early evening, I’d be feeling normal again. When he got there he was concerned, and sweet and caring. He prayed for me. I hadn’t eaten anything, or drank anything but water, and he suggested I try a little sprite. I thought that sounded like a good plan. It wasn’t. He fixed me a glass, I took a sip, and literally a few seconds later, I said, “I don’t think that was a good idea,” immediately stood up and high tailed it to the bathroom. Although I closed the door behind me, I’m sure he was at least audibly aware of my puking. I heard him, get up and remove the sprite from the room, and get me a glass of water.

I pretty much spent the rest of the day laying on the couch and apologizing to him , which he said wasn’t necessary. I went to my room and slept for a little while too, leaving him to entertain himself. What can I say, I’m an awesome hostess. We watched the movie Up at one point, I managed to get down a few saltines around lunch, and at 4, I managed to convince him to go get himself something to eat. Around 7, I felt well enough to go with him to Wade and Leah’s, where he was going to stay for the night, and then on the way back to my place, we stopped at the store. I had decided to try some cranberry juice, and a noodle soup packet. So the first meal he ever bought me was cranberry juice, and noodle soup, pretty romantic, huh? At least I can say I kept it down.

I am happy to report that I was at least feeling well enough on Saturday to make some appearances in public. We went out to breakfast, went ice skating at crown center, for all of 30 minutes before I told him I was tired and wanted to go home. We went back to my place and napped for like 3 hours, and then had pizza, and went to church. He drove home late that night.

It was nothing like we planned, and I haven’t even mentioned the emotional breakdowns. Let’s just say, I had a couple. I don’t know if it was being sick, and having to fast forward to a place where we were that comfortable being around each other in those circumstances, or just me being weird. I was just a little overwhelmed by it all, and quite honestly still am. Everything is going well, it’s obvious he really, really likes me, and at the same time, I’m struggling with believing it’s all real. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, and we talked about this. He even knew I was going to be writing about it here. I’m terrified of marrying someone and then finding out he’s not at all who he presented himself to be. I know this has to do with my past experiences and where I’ve been. ¬†We’ve been really open with each other about things, he’s not tried to hide his issues, cause lets face it, we all have them. I’ve also told him, as crazy as it sounds that I’d be more comfortable if his struggle was A instead of B, because A I’ve seen, A I understand, and A I’ve dealt with before. B is totally foreign to me, and therefore scary, and just adding fuel to my fearful fire.

We’ve talked about all of this, and his responses have been nothing less than stellar, honestly. We are planning for me to visit his world over valentine’s weekend, and I’m sure I’ll have another update for you then. In the meantime, I’m hoping to write some more about India. I still have some thoughts floating around, that I want to get down, about my experiences, about coming home, and about what I want to do about it now.