Before I proceed any further, there’s something you have to know that’s integral to the rest of this post: I’m really, truly, very intuitive. And “it” worked best when I lived in Florida – not, I think, because Florida is like Sedona where intuitives thrive (though it certainly seemed to work that way for me), but because things were clearer for me there (anxiety-wise, family-wise, etc.) for me to understand it properly. It’s not always specific, but it’s pretty good about giving me a head’s up when there’s something that I need to know about – even if it doesn’t give me the details.
So given that information –
Two years ago my sister got married and I didn’t want to go. There were a lot of reasons for that, but the biggest one is that that intuition that have was adamantly telling me that if I went, “everything would change.” It was adamant about that detail. The rational side of me said this was silly. I mean, how could things really change – I lived in Florida… whoever she married, I’d see him twice a year… and this wedding would have absolutely no bearing on what I was doing. I had the vacation time to use, I wasn’t going to lose my job, Botboy (who I was still waiting for at that point) wasn’t due back for two more months, Satine was still healthy then, and I could go up there and come back home with relative ease. But the intuition wouldn’t shut up. It kept insisting that if I went, things would change. And as change has never historically been a boon for me, I shuddered to think what it would mean and decided, adamantly, that I simply wasn’t going to go.
That didn’t fly well, obviously.
So, on May 30, 2014, I boarded a plane, flying into Louisville to stay in a hotel room that I rented for the weekend. To make things less painful, I’d made plans to meet my friend, and to reconnect with this guy I’d known a long time ago. See, I thought that the “change” would occur because of something or other that would happen in my hometown. Making plans in another city, I thought, would be a good “distraction” to what would likely be an uncomfortable situation and, presumably, would keep me away from whatever it was that was going to shatter everything I’d grown accustomed to and had come to love.
But remember how I told you that my intuition, while annoyingly loud sometimes, is not always the most specific? Yeah. It wasn’t talking about the wedding at all. It wasn’t talking about my hometown, either.
Not. At. All.
It was the guy. Reconnecting with him put all SORTS of things in motion that I could never have foreseen. I won’t go over what happened in Louisville that weekend (there’s record of it in these blog pages if you don’t already know the story).
From then on, my world changed dramatically. I spent more time in Louisville over the next six months than I had over the course of four years. To the point that I decided to pack up all my shit, and my cat (who hated to travel), and move us both back to this place just to be closer to him.
True to form, true to the intuition, true to everything… that weekend did, in fact, change everything.
And things are still changing.
We have decided that, at the end of the year, we are going to move to Tampa again. Financially that is the better decision for me since the pay is better, there is no state tax, and there is more of a market for what I do. From a psychological perspective that place is a win as well – the constant sunshine does wonders for my mood and my anxiety issues, and of course I can practice my “religion” more openly without fear of being told that I’m going to hell all the time. It’s a boon for him, too, in all of the same ways (plus he just LOVES the beach). We see it as a place where we can give the “best” of ourselves to each other.
Even though the move means I’ll be going home, it won’t be a complete reset.
Because even though it’s a familiar place (for me), things will look very different – I won’t be single, Satine will, unfortunately, not be coming with me this trip (though I may bring her ashes – the jury is still out on what I want to do with them), I’ll be bringing Ormsby in tow with our two new kitties (who will LOVE the sunshine).
But even the Ormsby/Victoria dynamic is going to look drastically different – and it’s going to continue to change – even after we get there.
Because, you see, a little over two years after we kissed for the first time, after we slept together for the first time, we went to Puerto Rico – Lord Ormsby had a three-day job down there, and I got invited to come along (seriously, sometimes my life is like a “Friends” episode).
On our last day there, we went for a walk on the beach.
While on that walk, he got down on one knee and he pulled out a ring. His proposal was characteristic of him – and of us. I knew it was coming. I’d picked out the ring myself. I’d known he’d purchased it, I even knew what day and time he was going to ask. Because I REALLY don’t like surprises. So, in true form for us, we laughed our way through the proposal.
And then, I said yes. Like three times because he kept pretending he hadn’t heard me.
He’s still in a state of shock. At almost 43, he had thought this would never happen to him. I’m in a state of shock, too. Not because I didn’t think it would or could happen, but because I’m now engaged to the man I first met in a coffee shop ten years ago for a job interview. I got the job then… And I guess, if you want to look at it practically, you could say I’ve been “hired” for the job now.
There is so much to do, so many plans to make, but we’re excited.
And that’s what matters.