Is he my "happily ever after"?

Wow.

What a week. I'm back from my jaunt to the Bahamas and I'm exhausted from sleep deprivation, drinking and lots of wonderful sex. I hesitate to post that type of detail but only for a brief second. Might as well be honest while being anonymous, no? Anyway, where to begin? At the end, I suppose.

I'm back at home and that feels good. But I miss B. This week was almost indescribable. I very nearly didn't make it home. I don't know anymore if it's worth finishing grad school. This time last night I was calling WestJet to see if I could change my flight. And we were still awake in the early hours of the morning talking about settling down and having kids. It's as though the last 13 years didn't happen.

They did. He's a very different person now than I remember. He has a veneer that bothered me at first. The lawyer is front and centre from the moment he puts on his tie to long after he has left the office. But I got past all of that very quickly and I can still see the teenager that was head over heels for me at first sight. That boy has turned into a loving and caring and sweet and sensitive man. I want to walk away from my life and live in his. I want him to hold me and take care of me and tell me I'm beautiful. I want to have his children and make him breakfast and massage all the tension out of his neck and back. I want to sit in his car and drive around after dark listening to XM and smoking cigarettes. If he had asked me to marry him, I wouldn't have left Nassau this afternoon.

This time last Friday, I had already met both his parents and was well on my way to blacking out from excessive alcohol consumption. They mix them strong in the Bahamas. My total consumption was a BahamaMama at lunch, half a glass of white wine in the evening before we left the house, a BahamaMama at the bank where I met his dad, a BahamaMama at Hurricane Hole and one last BahamaMama at Atlantis. Granted I didn't have dinner but I've never been drunk that quickly before. I blacked out while talking to his cousin and managed to make it to the washroom and back to the bar while suffering from what I'm certain was almost alcohol poisoning. Then it was water for the rest of the night. We went to Bambu and danced all night. I love that he can move. I love that he can sing. I love that he loves to do it and that he loves to do it with me in his arms. We danced close, we danced apart, we danced with each other except for one dance with his cousin. We didn't get home until 5 am. It turns out that I lost my wallet but didn't realise it until the following morning.

Saturday was spent hungover and touring the island. We sat on the beach in the afternoon and it was chilly. We were still a little awkward at that point. In hindsight, I think it was because we both knew how we were each feeling but wasn't sure about the other. It was a quiet evening with the family and then we went home and I decided it was time to break the ice. I ended up giving him a two hour deep muscle massage. Sometimes a man has to physically submit before he'll let you in emotionally but I think that it was worth the effort and the skinned knuckles. I caught up on his life, his love life specifically. He has developed a reputation for being a player. My little B, a heartbreaker. Who woulda thought it?

Sunday was again spent with family and friends. He had a lot to drink in the evening and when we got home, he asked me if I wanted to go to the beach. So we bundled up, grabbed two wine glasses and a bottle and sat in the dark trying not to get washed away. It was windy and cold and dark and he held me close and told me that I had always had a special place in his heart. I told him that I remembered the date that the Blue Jays won the World Series the second time. October 23, 1993. It was the day we met. And I said to him, "so who has a special place in whose heart?" and he leaned over and kissed me. A little bit of liquid courage sometimes makes good accelerant. That night we did all the things we never did as naive and innocent kids. I don't want to have sex with anyone else again ever. I just want him. He told me he would take care of me, that he had always loved me, and over and over he said I was beautiful. I can't write all that without crying.

The rest of the week is a bit of a blur. His inability to get time off was frustrating but it meant I got to know his mother very well. We spent the whole of Monday together. I spent Tuesday by myself at the beach and by the pool. Wednesday tried to go to Harbour Island but the service had been suspended and I spent the morning stuck in his office waiting for him to take me home and hiding post it notes. When we sat down to lunch, he got a call from the office. A client had showed up and demanded a meeting. So I didn't go home and instead wondered around town for a couple of hours. When I showed up at the office again, I was in tears. Frustrated that I was missing out on time with him, time at the beach, time in the sun. So I bailed out and told him to call me when he was free and took the ferry over to Paradise Island. The rest of the evening was great. We went for drinks at Cafe Europa. Dinner at Luciano's. Dessert at home in bed. Thursday morning at the beach, he finally left work at lunch time and it was by far the best afternoon of my vacation. Lunch at August Moon with his mother. Afternoon at Love Beach. Dinner at Bimini Road. Wondered around Marina Village looking at boats.

I want that life for myself. I know it's mostly artificial. The dinners out and the tourist lifestyle. But I want the ocean and the sand and his company and to be around his family. I miss him. He said he would try to come up in March and would fly me down there for my 30th birthday.

My cynical heart is preparing for empty promises but my soul wants to hope and believe. Does fate exist? Will the third time be the charm? Now that we're adults, will be have better control over our decisions and our futures? Will this be my happily ever after?