Flowers From An Airport

Four lanes of traffic.

Boulder, Colorado is a sexy little town with personality and one of the most crucial comforts of great small cities: a pedway. Room for humans to wander and stand still and shop and contemplate street vendors without the entrapment of a sidewalk and cars. That pedway crosses Broadway, and as she came into view on the other side of the street she just kind of bounced and gave a little wave.

Four lanes seemed like a sea waiting to be crossed.

I sent her flowers a few months back on a whim. I caught wind that her heart had been broken, and I’ve read her blog for years now, so the significance of a shattered heart was as tragic for me as it was for the forty bloggers who began emailing one another hoping to find ways to reach out to her in support. A boy should send her flowers, I thought, and I nearly missed my plane because it seemed so necessary.

The flowers included this note:

I will try to connect with you via back channels, but I just want you to know that you’re one of the most captivating and beautiful women on the internet. You will rock this, and your life is not over. It’s beginning. Much love.

Then here I was, twenty feet from her, standing there in the flesh with her gorgeous smile and deep, deep eyes.

I’m not sure how I felt so comfortable up to that moment…I carried almost no nerves up to Boulder after a day with Chalise in Denver.  I was walking to meet her from one of the most inspiring meetings I’ve ever had, and through my first 36 hours in the area I was massively most excited about meeting her. I was calm; incredibly comfortable that meeting her would be almost easy, because our conversations from afar were like looking in a mirror…

Looking across the street, all my composure disappeared. Took a fucking vacation.

The vision of her was so far beyond radient that I felt unprepared. I felt small, insignificant, and I felt insanely lucky that the light was changing and she was very obviously going to run and jump on me.

I picked her up in a feverish hug in the middle of Broadway.  She popped off to my side, laced her arm under mine, and we almost galloped down the pedway towards the cafe she was eating lunch with her friend at.

I spent last weekend looking at a girl I can’t see past.

Which is to say that I’m very simply happy to feel overwhelmingly in awe of this tender, insightful, sweet person who makes me feel like the person I am today is a better version of the guy I was before. A person fresh off a broken heart and someone who is impressively transparent about her feelings and thoughts and insecurities.

A window-shatteringly beautiful girl.

I think some people in my life and digital circle probably feel a little odd about this particular post. I didn’t give her a lot of context these last few months. Obviously I haven’t written about this, but I even kept a bit quiet with friends and family.

My own sister was a little off on finding out I was in Colorado for more than work. That I was meeting someone I considered significant in the heart department.

That was intentional, wanting to own the experience for myself. I think having been asked about my love life for the last few years carries with it some responsibility; the pool of love and concern around my happiness is deep and I have always thought it important to be sure about my feelings. We’re both internet people, and her story at the moment is especially dressed in her most recent relationship. I have always tried to respect people’s ownership over their own lives, and to write about people who were comfortable with it.

To say she’s alright with me writing about would be somewhat of an understatement:)

So yeah…unicorns and party favors and sparklers and smiles and cake and frosting and whoa.

This girl‘s in my head. Big. Time.

Check her out cuz she’s adorable.

Right?

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