Finally! Another beautiful love story for my feature ‘Couples‘! Isn’t it amazing how people just find together? Thank you so much Becky, from Restart Urgently Needed, for sharing your story with me here. Please head over and check out her blog and her inspiring story of which you’ll catch glimpses here. I believe we all can learn from her experience.
I was so in love. We were together for quite some time but the feeling you have when you’re on the first date stayed, each time I looked at him. He was handsome. All the girls I knew went crazy when he appeared to pick me up at the students’ home. He was very tall and totally into sports. His shoes were twice my size. I loved wearing them when we were at the lake. He would laugh so much about it. And when he would start to laugh it would be a laughter from deep inside his heart. He was always honest, no matter what he did or said. He was Mr. Perfect. We were the perfect couple.
We had known each other when we were kids. He was a bit younger than me and I loved to pretend I was his babysitter. We spent every day together until the first grenades fell. When we got separated I was five years old. He was only two. I remember his uncle picking him up at my place for the last time. He was dressed like a soldier and his face was so serious. Even as a child I could understand something was wrong this time.
I forgot about my childhood friend. More than 15 years passed, years full of nightmares which I could not understand. I woke up in horror, dreaming of a screaming boy or of somebody stealing a kid from me. I told my parents about those dreams but they kept quiet.
I grew up and moved to another city to attend a special university where our eyes met again. For an eternity we looked at each other, unable to speak. I still didn’t know who he was, when he spoke to me for the first time. He had an accent typical for those people who had killed almost all of my family members. When I asked him where he was from, he explained to me who he really was. I remembered everything and fainted.
His father had chosen the other side. He had left his wife and son to join the army that was against us. He had married one of their women and changed his name and surname. My mother never forgave me for being with the son of such a guy. My father did. Dad actually loved him but I hadn’t been at home since that relationship had started. I wasn’t welcome there. Mother couldn’t stand seeing me. It was a difficult time for all of us. I became part of his family. They became everything I had, even though none of them belonged to where I came from. It was a different life, a different culture and even though I loved them with all of my heart I missed my family.
When I decided to make peace with my mother he supported me. He drove hundreds of kilometers in a few days, bringing me back home and back to the city I lived. We tried so many times, but she only opened the door when she by accident thought he had left me. Then I made my mistake. I lied to her and confirmed we were no longer a couple. Mum was so happy that it hurt. She went for a vacation to my hometown with me, for the first time after the war. It was the summer that would change it all.
I met Mr. Right. He was a friend of my cousin and we had a drink with some other friends. I liked him a lot, but I wasn’t single and it wasn’t that kind of falling in love. He was the complete opposite of Mr. Perfect. He was much smaller, bald and wore glasses. He was the typical nerd and an introvert, very quiet, very intelligent and also very shy. We didn’t even talk. I didn’t even notice him properly until the day I decided to go and visit the local cemetery. I had never been there before and all my loved ones who were killed in that war were buried there. It took me days to decide to go and hours to leave the house. I felt so alone.
Not that my boyfriend wasn’t there geographically. The problem was that he was close but he did not get it. He had no clue what to do at a grave. On the one hand he was somehow one of them, he had no idea about my tradition. On the other hand he couldn’t stand facing what friends of his father did to me and my family. We had a big fight.
When I went to visit the graves, Mr. Right was already there. That’s when I actually noticed that he existed. I watched him from the distance. He rose his hands in prayer for people he never knew. He stayed there and watched the names of my cousins and aunts, my great-grandparents, everybody that I had lost. Only once I had mentioned my wish to go and visit them, but I had not said how difficult that was for me. He had understood. We had never really talked but he suddenly did that for me. He wasn’t even religious or the type of guy who would do this on a regular base. He did it for me.
My world crashed. I hid when he left, so that he couldn’t see me observing him. I talked to my dead family for hours after that. I cried, I screamed. I cursed the day I was born and the separation among the people after the war. I cursed the differences that were stuck in our heads and the fact I could not be stronger than them. When I came home I wasn’t able to speak for a few days.
Mr. Perfect and I broke up. We decided that we loved each other too much to cause each other pain. He didn’t want to be between me and my mother. I couldn’t understand his attempts to talk to his father again. We finally realized that those problems would occur again in life and separated. It was probably a mistake that we didn’t fight more. It hurt a lot. We tried to be friends but ended up changing classes to not see each other at the university.
I almost forgot about Mr. Right. I was too busy losing weight and crying because of the breakup. He lived in another country. How big were the chances to see him again?
But we met. He drove all the way to only see me again after more than a month after we had met for the first time. Once more he did something I would never have expected. It took us a while to decide we were going for that long-distance relationship. We pretended being friends until he kneed down in front of me and pulled out a ring.
It took him only three months to decide that this was something that should last forever. He loved me for all my weaknesses. He loved me for trying to forgive them. He loved me for trying to be friends with people I never thought I could be friends with again. He was one from my side, but he reached out his hand and together we made this step forward towards them. He made me forget the war. He made me remember the most beautiful things. He solved the conflict I had with my mother. He helped me with my exams. He was always there. He’s still there. He is my best friend. He’s that kind of love I never knew before. He’s not always perfect but he’s Mr. Right.
And since two years I am officially his, I am Mrs. Right.