The Story of Us Part II

And so we continue from where we left off...(please see Part I for the beginning). L and I had parted ways, he on his one year tour of duty in South Korea, and I finishing up my TDY at Hurlburt Field.


Life fell back into its routine after I returned to Orlando. My ex-fiance, Carl, had a change of heart and begged for me to take him back. Reluctantly, despite my reservations, I left the door open for him and I to patch up the old hurts and try to start anew. My career started to take off as I received recognition for the work I did as an airman. I was officially in remission, but had to deal with a new monster called aplastic anemia, a condition brought on from the chemo. Life wasn't great, but at least it was busy. During the next two months, L didn't cross my mind much.

Meanwhile, it turned out L had spoken with our mutual friend, Jessi, who in turn made it a point to mention I was bummed out about his departure. Our personal Cupid also made sure he had written down my e-mail address.


This is where it gets a little technical...but I insist (it is my story). You see, a typical air force email address consists of first name dot last name @ base dot af dot mil. But since I was stationed at a Department of Defense location, those rules did not apply. Instead, my address was first name dot last name @ dfas dot mil. Got it? Okay, let's continue...


L, unaware of the nature of my assignment, therefore assumed Jessi goofed on the address she gave him and decided to insert an "af" after the "dfas" when addressing his messages to me. Two months of returned messages popping up in his inbox, he decided as a last ditch effort to leave the address as is in the off chance it would actually work. But naturally, after two months of constantly attempting to reach me unsuccessfully, the poor man was at the end of his rope. And so, he impatiently tapped a short little note and sent it on its way.


I had just returned from a TDY from Indianapolis. I had been absent from my Orlando desk for three days, and I was dreading the flood of customer service emails I would have to sift through. I was on a roll, repeatedly tapping a catchy rhythm on the delete button of my Outlook inbox, when one message caught my eye. First off, it was from Osan Air Base, Korea, a site my organization didn't support accounting-wise. Second, I had no idea who L Och was. I clicked on it and the message maximized on my screen:

Hey I tried to email you but it didn't work so I am trying again.

I won't say much so I don't waste my time until you

confirm that it worked. Write back.

L

Okaaaay, so it wasn't exactly a love letter. Needless to say, his message brought a flood of pleasant memories and definitely piqued my interest. My kinda boyfriend kinda not Carl was deployed to the UAE at the time, and I figured it was harmless, so I wrote back and confirmed that yes, it did work, and no, he wouldn't be wasting his time writing me when he used that correct address.

The twelve-hour time difference worked wonders for us. He would call when he woke up to get ready for work and I was coming home from work. He'd call again to wake me in the morning when his duty day was done. As my relationship with Carl deteriorated with constant fifteen minute morale call arguments, I realized I didn't quite look forward to his phone calls as I did with L's.


Long distance slash telephone relationships have a tendency to be chockfull of charades. One pretending to be what the other is looking for. It is, after all, much easier to paint a false facade when the other isn't physically there to test out its authenticity. But L and I took it a different direction. We both inadvertently decided there was no pressure to try to pretend and or please. My conversations with L were downright honest and held no pretense. We found we could talk about anything, laugh about everything, and share a world of common interests.


Three weeks of regular conversations later, he uttered the words, "I think I'm falling in love with you," while I was ironing my uniform in preparation for work that day. I almost burned myself, shocked at his impulsive statement and the surprisingly reciprocal feelings I seemed to harbor. Out of guilt for Carl, all I could muster was an uneasy, "Ummmm, okay."


That same day, Carl called ready to argue, and I ruined his day by telling him wouldn't be marrying him. It was the most singularly difficult conversation I have ever had. (**Don't feel too sorry for Carl. He is currently married to a beautiful woman and has two gorgeous kids. He is, to this day, a dear friend.) And so, I was free to love my L right back.



**To be continued...