My "True love" story

[hopeless87]

Love sucks. I present to you, the magnificent story that is my TRUE love story. It is the actual, real life story of my wife and I.

2008 december 28th I decide that my new years resolution will be to find love. I was 25 at the time and never really invested much in romance. I knew that what love I had was meant for one person and so I would refuse to settle for less. Even my email address was "hopeless87" not because I was distraught but because I knew myself as a hopeless romantic and dedicated myself to finding true love.

I posted an ad on craigslist to begin my search. perhaps not the smartest idea but at least I was trying somewhat. The ad was simply about looking for someone to go to the movies with. Nothing sexual or too hopeful, just something. I got a few responses, chose to reply to one from a woman in Dallas. I was in Fort Worth at the time so the drive wasn't too much. We set up a date to watch "The Watchmen" at a local theater. I was stood up. Sad and discouraged, I went home to hop on World of Warcraft, my only consolation. I talked with a few guildies, one of which was a long time friend, the wife of a fellow soldier I served with in Iraq 2003.

I told her that I'de been stood up and that I was upset. She consoled me and listened. She was always wishing the best for me as she was aware I knew nothing of love even at my age. I told her how I felt I never would find love, how maybe it was never for me and how much I hated the world that left me to be alone. She did her best to listen but it wasn't enough. Little did I know, we had a new person in guild.

earlier that day, a girl joined the guild as a rogue. completely at random. That night she listened in as I lamented and felt greatly for me. She sent me a PM and we talked in private and I found in her the understanding I'de longed for. She too knew little of love and knew how it felt to wonder if the world had been set against her heart. The more we talked, the more I wished I knew her. I found out that she lived in Canada and that she had a bachelors degree in religious studuies, an subject that sparked my interest. I always loved brainy girls.

We talked day in and day out, never wishing to be without her lovely ear and soft heart. Though we could only chat through the computer screen, I felt an immediate and dire connection to her. It wasn't long before I told her I loved her, as a matter of fact it was about a month later on Valentines day. I knew what I wanted and I was never one to hold back emotional expressions. I am a writer for fucks sake.

As time went on we got even more close, meeting up "offline" spending nights watching movies we'de rented from itunes and desperately attempting to find ways to be together despite our localation differences. This was a few days before skype (damn I feel old) and so the best we had was MSN messenger. I told her how I was a writer in my spare time. how I had talent but lacked that attention span to be successful. She encouraged me to focus on it and suggested I set aside time every night to practice. She even found a writing competition put on by Blizzard entertainment which I participated in. She was proud of me and I was madly in love with her. For her, I wrote what remains to this day my most inspired and beautiful work, a poem called "the tide."

May that same year, I flew her down to Fort worth to spend a week with me. We were both so incredibly nervous. We'de talked about how we would spend our time together and our "first time" was a favorite topic of mine. Yes, our "first time." By the time she got there I was scraping together dollars to reserve a hotel room. Since I left the army I was staying on my brother's livingroom floor and I knew that wouldn't suffice. with my last $80 I bought a small ring with a ruby in the shape of a heart. It was to be a promise ring but it turned into so much more

We had the times of our lives. Never before had we both been so happy. Not only because of the obvious, but because for the first time I was in the room with that person who seemed to defy fate itself to make me not so alone in the world. She was nothing short of a blessing. Soon reality caught up to us and she had to return to Canada. The night before as we lay in bed I grabbed up the small promise ring I'd bought and put it on my pinky. I rolled over back to her and stared deep into her eyes. She asked me what was wrong, I had no idea how to respond. "Will you marry me?" I blurted. She said yes. We hugged and I out the ring on her finger. To this day she says she could feel me shivering, which I don't remember. I told her, if I was shivering it was the shivering of a puppy coming out of the rain and into the warmest happiness I'd ever felt.

We spent an incredible time on the phone, typically not hanging up until someone fell asleep. I remember her saying "Your phone bill will probably be a lot" and I laughed saying "Well it's worth it, we'll have an cool story to tell of the several hundred dollar phone bills." The next phone bill was $1370.... apparently free nights and weekends did not include international calls.

After one particular difficult conversation, our first fight ever, I decided to drive up to Canada to be with her. Such is the short-sighted impulse of the loving fool. 2 days and 12 driving hours later I was staring at the Canadian border with all of my worldly belongings in my 2006 Kia spectra. I got turned around that night but not before getting searched twice by border control. I found lodging in a near-by hotel room and let her know the bad news. The following morning she came to see me on the U.S. side.

For 3 days we were as children, hearts wild and free, reveling in the ecstasy that was passionate love. I was unable to start my new life with her in Canada and so I told her I would go to California, back to my parent's house, to begin the foundation that would be our life of happiness together. I've never seen so many tears from a single person as those that fell from her eyes as I drove away. From the North Dakota border I drove another 5 days to the central valley, calling my father to keep him abreast.

To be continued.....

[CrackerJack30]

At 7/7/13 11:52 PM, hopeless87 wrote: Love sucks. I present to you, the magnificent story that is my TRUE love story. It is the actual, real life story of my wife and I.

For what I read so far, I can't see why you say "Love sucks". Anyway, your real story is more thrilling then any possible blockbuster movie plot, since, well, it really has happend.

I would like to read the second part, but I would also accept if you don't want to continue - I feel a little like I read the diary of an other person since you share your most private thoughts & feelings with us!

[hopeless87]

At 7/8/13 11:39 AM, CrackerJack30 wrote: I would like to read the second part, but I would also accept if you don't want to continue - I feel a little like I read the diary of an other person since you share your most private thoughts & feelings with us!

I will post more soon. As you will read, there is plenty to be shared. My entire life has been quite the tale. I may finish this "chapter" of my history and decide to write about my 7 years in the army which includes 28 months in Iraq. I love to share my story with others. I thank these forums and people like you that have provided me the oppurtunity to connect like this.

[hopeless87]

I arrived in Fresno around early may 2009, listening to Fall out boy "Folie au duex" and an occasional playing of Led Zepplin's "Going to California." The feeling of the open road was like a part of my soul, dreading the tedium as a happy burden. How would things go? What would I do when I got there? I was always an over-thinker so having so much time to let me mind wander was never wasted. I told Liz (I just realized I haven't even said her name yet in this story) that I'd probably end up staying at my father's place for a while. I'd attend a tech school with my G.I. bill I recieved from the military. Get my own apartment and prepare it for the time when she could come live with me and that's exactly what happened.

I attended a 9 month industrial technology course at a trade school here in Fresno. As an electronics technician in the military I had plenty of time behind me as a service technician but I wanted to expand my skill set. I took temp jobs at factories typically lasting 3-4 months while attending the course. The first of which was a company that assembled machinery to put labels on fruit. It wasn't exactly glamorous but it allowed me to save up a bit.

The wedding date had been set for mid September. Nightly we would chat (between dungeon queues on WoW) about the specifics. We decided that getting married in Las Vegas would be a great idea since the paperwork can be done quickly there and her family would enjoy more than just our wedding for the money it would take for them to attend. I was trying feverishly to save money but time was slowly drawing near. I actually couldn't afford wedding rings so my step-mother gave me the money to buy them as a wedding present. Liz's parents paid for the wedding package. I felt embarrased that I was unable to take care of more but I'm sure they understood. My last check before the wedding I'd reached just enough to pay for the reception. I must have had the biggest, proudest grin signing the check.

Thursday Sept. 16th came and Liz flew down a few days early so we could drive to Vegas together. Friday we started the drive. Everything was happening so fast, we were both so excited! We began the drive south towards Bakersfield where we turn east towards Vegas. Just on the far side of Bakersfield, 2 hours from Fresno, I realized I'd left my tuxedo at my fathers house. The one thing that absolutely could not be done without. We had to turn around for it adding 4 hours to our trip time. This wouldn't have been disasterous if not for our families waiting in Vegas at what was supposed to be our rehersal dinner. Speeding to Vegas we arrived just as everyone was getting up to leave the tables. They sat down for about another 10 minutes, enough time for my new father-in-law to give a speech welcoming me to the family. How stupid do you think I felt?

Saturday morning, I sat in a hotel room putting on my tuxedo. I didn't bring black socks and so I wore regular white ones instead. My new mother-in-law laughed so loudly when she saw them. God, I'm glad I met them before this shit show, it would have been an awful first impression. The Ceremony was held about an hour out of town in the red Nevada Desert. Her parents chartered a bus which took all of the attendees to the site. We'd went and got our marriage paperwork the night before after the dinner which I didn't bring because we didn't need at the ceremony. Upon hearing that I didn't bring the paperwork my new mother-in-law insisted we turn around for them just in-case. "He didn't bring the paperwork" she said. At this point I was just too defeating to argue. Back at the hotel I ran upstairs and grabbed the paperwork and rushed back downstairs. Turns out, we in fact did not need the paperwork but I'm still remembered as "forgetting it" haha.

Finally at the site I stood atop a large stone looking down on the beautiful moment. Liz was waiting in a limousine to make her grand entrance. A tape recorded started the wedding song and she stepped out to take her father's hand. Wearing a dress she and her mother made just days before the flight down. Needless to say I was quite amorous. We exchanged vows and rings. The tears in her mother's eyes, the grip of her father's hand shake. Both of our grand-mothers sitting side by side. My wife at my side. Everything was finally where it belonged, all except my damned white socks.

[hopeless87]

Liz left for Canada and I went back to California. I was still struggling to go to the technical college monday through thursdzy while holding a full-time day job but it would soon pay off. I finally decided it was time to move out of my father's house and into my own apartment. I considered it my very first apartment since the barracks could barely be called independant living. Liz was happy for me and I was proud of myself. Some part of me felt like the transition into the civilian world was finally going ok.

We kept up our usual night time chats but now they mostly concerned immigration paperwork. We'de gotten married so we could apply for her residency. It was a ballsy chance to take, getting married to a person you've only spent roughly 20 days in the same room with. As time went on we tried to remain patient while the US immigration office took it's time. Not knowing what to do, we even made a few errors of our own to slow down the process but all in all we had to wait 18 months between the date we married to the day we could live together.

It's insane to think that for a year and I half we were married but unable to be together. We waited so long for that day that times came where we doubted it would ever happen. Several times I even succumbed to depressive thoughts nearly needing hospitalization. The stress of the world was catching up to us. No longer we were oblivious to the demands of a relationship and to the impact of the distance. Fights became more common, resolutions became more difficult. Our feeling of eternal togetherness slowly replaced by cautious optomisism, constantly fighting back surges of doubt.

We did soldier on though. Despite the ebbs and flows of our trial by fire we manged to continue our lives. Liz sold her home in Canada and moved in with a work friend. I completed my Industrial technology course at the trade school and even began to take a shine in the study of psychology. A favorite subject of mine since a child, I loved studying people as the ultimate puzzle. Eventually we would find ourselves counting down the last days of our distance relationship. The letter had arrived and the date set, her final immigration appointment was soon and I was to go up there to be by her side. I wouldn't have had it any other way.

May 2011, I could barely think straight. 18 months of waiting, soon we would be finally driving back to California together... hopefully. This last appointment was the big one, the one where they told us whether my annual income from the following year was good enough to grant Liz a conditional permanent resident status. By the laws of immigration I had to make over $16000 that year but I had only made 14500 or so. While the G.I. bill was money in my pocket, it was not taxable and therefore did not count towards my annual income. I was told to submit it anyway and maybe they would over look it. I could only pray. If they didn't we would have to wait until next year to try again, while at the same time I would have to work myself insane to meet the goal next year within the given time frame.

The appointment was in Montreal, Canada. We met there and spent a night in a tiny hotel downtown. The next morning we went to the appointment, both of us moments away from hyperventilating. After an hour or so wait it was our turn to see the immigration officer who questioned Liz before me. The longest 30 minutes of my life began when she left my side to go into the back room alone. I received my nod to come in also. The immigration noticed that I had been in the military, a veteran no less, and began to question me about my service. "Fort Campbell Kentucky" I said, "E-4" I said, all the while waiting for some clue as to our fate. "Ok, you're done. Congratulations" he said stamping the forms. HAHahah I breathed out so hard a sigh of relief. Apparently once the officer saw that I was a veteran he needed know no more about me. God, I love when people love Vets!

That night we went back to where Liz was staying and packed all of her belongings into her 2008 Chevy Cobalt. The furniture from her house had been in storage for quite some time now and finally we knew exactly where it would be next. The next morning we began our drive from the Canadian border to California. It would be one more time I drove that route but this time would be so much sweeter than the first.

[hopeless87]

Life together was as sweet as we'd imagined and for a few months it was truly heaven. I was still being paid to go to school. Liz, being a hard worker, was taking a break from the rat race to get comfortable with her new life in California. Our days consisted of waiting to be together again as I volunteered at the veteran's hospital. Our nights were filled with intoxicating drinks and herbs which kept our spirits high. For the first few months, life was perfect.

Slowly, as the novelty of the situation began to fade, other emotions began to surface. We both knew that our relationship was comprised of two people hoping that the other was at a far enough distance not to see our flaws. As those flaws became apperent though, the insecurity which formed our foundation slowly began to reclaim our minds.

Did she want to be here? Can I make him happy? Do you really know this woman? Does he really love you? All of the answers in the world couldn't stop the questions from bubbling forth. I could see it in her eyes. Did she make the right choice? She wasn't sure, and so neither was I.

Before California, Liz worked 2 jobs and lived with her siblings in the house she bought. She had a life complete with a network of family and friends that she gave up to be with me. I did appreciate it and knew that what she gave up was the security of the life she forged for the promise of the life we'd build together. I could tell it was a choice that she would have made a thousand times over, but that didn't stop her from missing what she had in Winnipeg.

I did my best to soothe her lonesome heart, to be that person that she so desperately needed me to be. Relationships are difficult, the learning curve us steep and there's so much at stake. This is all we knew of love and there was no way I could sour her to the idea and so I did my best, despite my inexperience to be the partner she needed. Now, I consider myself a person of great patience and excellent at conflict resolution. There was something else in her heart though, something that I could never begin to help. The longer we've been together and the more I've tried to reach out to my wife, the more obvious it's become that Liz is cursed with unhappiness.

When I brought her from Canada to California and into my life, I was the prince charming, the knight in shining armor, that she needed to rescue her from the dreadery that was her life. While she had friends she knew that they were empty and meaningless relationships. Though she had jobs she knew that her future would be unfulfilling scrubbing toilets and waiting to retire. Though she had a house, she knew she lacked a home. The problem that we both discovered upon the turning of her disposition was that the true tower of isolation from which she'd needed rescue was still far out of my reach and so the physical distance we'd been forced to accept became emotional.

This is the part of the story where I could sit and lament about who does what, who says what and how things got the way they are. I feel that I've reached the end of the story as it is written so far and so I'll conclude this thread by answering the question that I'm sure many of you have asked.

"With such an amazing story of love over-coming all obstacles, how can a person be so defeated by love?"

The answer is that fate is amazing, fate is beautiful. There are things which by any other reality would become dull and uninspiring. I think back to what would have possibly happened if I didn't make that new years resolution to find love. What would have happened if I hadn't been turned away at the border that night. Who would I be if not sleeping next to the woman I so readily would give my heart for. What would have happened if she said no? All these questions and none of the answers matter. The only thing that matters now is that she can't stand the sound of my voice. That I'm fed up with trying to be heard. That after 4 years of the stress and trials of love, every fight feels like it could be our last.That love has made us opposition as we try to figure out who we are, what we need and how we're going to live together for the next 100 years.

Love is war. Even in this most perfect of fairy tales, love becomes that thing which grows us through pain. As with the world, I understand why it must be difficult but why must it also suck? Tooth and nail we claw at the sludge and blockades of love hoping for the light at the end of the tunnel but love is relentless. Love insists on making us suffer with sweet promises seemingly ever further out of reach.