The love story that almost wasn’t.
Life is all about choices and each one you make brings you closer to something or someone or sends you farther away. The choice that would change my life, was not a smart one. And never in a million years would I have thought it would have landed me here. Happily married, with two kids.
I was in my early 20’s, fresh off a bad break up and in the mood to party. I called a friend and we hit our favorite bar, where I proceeded to get completely and totally drunk. Once I got to the point where I could no longer stand, I stumbled into a cab and went home. I got a little sick, okay, a lot sick in the cab. But I’m nothing if not polite, so instead of ruining the cabbie’s car, I got sick in my purse (ewww, I know!)
Some back story is necessary here. I didn’t get my license until I was 34 and during my clubbing years I had to use my passport as ID. Which would explain why my passport was in my purse on that fateful night. Continuing with my stellar choices, I decided to rinse the passport and leave it to dry. I will spare you the details on what the passport and I looked like in the days after that night. It was still passable as ID, so I didn’t give it another thought once the memory of that night and its aftermath faded.
4 years, one relationship and another breakup later and it was time for some big changes. I had saved up money and decided to move to Paris, France for an indefinite period. With my apartment rented, my suitcase packed and my ticket purchased, I headed out for one last dinner with a friend. During that dinner I attracted the notice of an admirer. But, given the fact that I was Europe bound within the week, I spurned his request to meet him later for a drink. On my way home, later that night I happened to pass him sitting on a patio with a friend. After many repeated requests, I finally said yes to a drink.
That night was one of those nights – everything had come together perfectly. I had one foot out of the country so I was not looking for anyone or anything. Unfettered by the pressures of “dating” I was carefree and genuine. He was cute, funny, nice, and wanted to have fun. We talked, laughed and had an awesome time. That night lasted well into the next day. And my last week in Toronto became a mix of days filled with family and friends, and nights filled with him. I was feeling something. He was too. But with my departure looming, we thought it would only ever be a casual thing and so we kept quiet.
The night I arrived at the airport was full of mixed emotions. It was exciting to be starting this next chapter of my life, but I was sad at who I was leaving behind. Friends, family and now this boy. So you can imagine my surprise when after all the planning and goodbyes, they wouldn’t let me board the plane. Why? My passport. That washed out, rinsed out passport from that fateful night 4 years prior was too damaged to let me fly.
And as you remember, I did not have a license. Turned out that my health card was expired too. So a problem that could have been solved quickly in any other circumstance, took a week. Another 7 days with the boy. And enough time for both of us to realize that there was something important at play between us.
With new passport in hand, the next time I went to the airport was even more emotionally charged. Stranded as I was between two possible adventures, one at home and one abroad. But I put on my big girl pants and got on the plane. Paris was as magical as I had hoped and I loved every minute I spent there. But the pull of the boy was strong and getting stronger with every conversation and video chat. And it turns out you can run out of money quickly in Paris when you are living as a tourist. In the end I came back after 4 months, one mini adventure had and a new one just beginning. The boy and I were living together within the year and that boy is now my husband. We will be celebrating 13 years together this April.
So thank you young, drunk me. You saved the love story that almost wasn’t and gave me my happily ever after.