Our Love Story, Part Two

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You can read Part One of our Love story here.

Last time we left off, I had just received my Valentine’s Day flowers (a day late) and was preparing for my trip to Arizona. It was such an odd feeling going to meet Jacob—I mean, I had known about him my entire life and spent HOURS talking to him on the phone but had never seen him in person. I had no idea what to pack or how to feel, but I was so excited!

I don’t think I have ever had as many butterflies in my stomach as I did on that flight from OKC to Phoenix.  Once the flight landed, I text him and told him I had landed and quickly ran to the bathroom to check my hair and makeup. He opted to avoid coming into the airport to greet me at the terminal, like you see in all of the cheesy romance movies, which was probably for the best because I honestly wouldn’t have known how to act meeting him in front of all of those people. Instead, he asked me where I was standing in the pickup lane and said he would find me. Of course, given how directionally challenged I am, it took him awhile to interpret my directions and find me. Haha

When he pulled up, those butterflies that were in my stomach made their way to my throat and all I could do was nervously smile. He grabbed my suitcase and we headed to his house. I don’t think I stopped talking the entire 35 minute drive to his house—I have no idea what I said or if he even got a word in, I just know I was nervous and don’t like awkward silences so I made sure there was no opportunity for that! Haha. We stayed up late talking on Friday night and he grilled some food for us. I honestly could not get a good feel for the situation—did he think of us as just friends or did he want more?

On Saturday we went to the Medieval Fair (not usually something that ranks high on my list of things I want to do, but we had fun). On the way back to his house, the traffic was horrible and it was starting to make me nervous. All of a sudden, the car in front of Jacob came to a complete stop and Jacob had to slam on his brakes and swerve to the left to avoid hitting them. Boom! I thought we had a blowout from driving on the side of the road, but Jacob immediately said “that motorcycle just ran into us!” I looked in the rearview mirror just in time to see a motorcyclist rolling on the ground, cars swerving to avoid running him over, and his motorcycle nowhere in sight. Apparently, he was going too fast to slow down and ran into the trailer hitch on Jacob’s truck, sending his bike under the truck and him into the air. What an end to our first date! I was so glad the motorcyclist was okay (aside from a little road rash) and nobody got hurt, but I could not stop shaking. Jacob felt really bad about scaring me to death and kept asking if I was hurt and telling me everything would be okay. After about an hour, we had the police report filed, the motorcycle was towed, and we were on our way back to his house. We were both so shaken up that any plans we had for that night were shot; we just sat and watched TV.

Sunday, we surprised his grandparents (who had actually met me before) and they were quite shocked because Jacob never told them that we were talking or that I was coming to visit. We had brunch with them and then headed to one of his friend’s houses for a cookout. Of course, everyone wanted to know who I was and how we had met. We told them we technically met online but knew of each other before and they kept giving us a hard time about it—they were convinced that we had actually met on a dating site like eHarmony (little did they know, it was more like meddlingmothers.com).  

At last, the dreaded Monday (the end to our first weekend together) had arrived and that meant Jacob had to take me to the airport. I don’t think we said a word the entire trip to the airport—we were both sad to see our visit come to an end. We hugged goodbye at the airport with not so much as a kiss on the cheek and I walked into the airport.

I sat at my gate thinking about everything that transpired that weekend, imagining the future we could have had, and choking back the tears at the thought of us just being friends. Then, I looked down at my phone to see a text from Jacob that said “Do you have to go? I don’t want you to leave.” A smile beamed across my face and with that I knew, we were more than just friends—we were meant to be.

Our Love Story, Part One

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I’ve never been one of those hopeless romantics who talks about their dating life non-stop, so I have never taken the time to write about how Jacob and I fell in love. In fact, most of my close friends don’t even know the story, so this post is certainly overdue!

Our love story actually started years before we even knew each other...you see, our moms were best friends in High School and they continued that friendship into adulthood. Unfortunately, our mothers lived just far enough apart that it was inconvenient for them to get together (and they had husbands who controlled their every move), so ironically Jacob and I never actually got to meet when we were little. His family moved to Arizona when he was 9 or 10, forcing our moms to keep in contact through the occasional phone call, extremely rare visits, and mandatory Christmas card. Because of this, Jacob and I grew up aware of each other but never thought anything more of it (although, I did make numerous comments about “that cute boy” in their family pictures).

When I was probably 17, mom made a trip out to visit Jacob's mom (Kim) in Arizona. What I didn't realize, is that Kim had told Jacob that I was probably coming with her and that he could help entertain me (an obvious attempt to set us up), but I actually didn't go on that trip. We'll chalk that one up to fate because he was a partying 23 at the time, and wouldn't have been the least bit interested in an underage girl who he had to babysit.

Fast forward a few years…Kim gets diagnosed with cancer and the prognosis wasn't looking good. Mom made a few more trips out there to visit. After spending a lot of time with Jacob and watching how he cared for his mother, mom started making comments about how amazing he was. Unfortunately, Kim passed away and never got the chance to see us together; however, it is 100% because of her (and her unfortunate passing) that we are together.

You see…after his mom passed, I tracked him down on facebook and sent him a message letting him know that I was there if he needed anything. We may have sent a casual message here or there but nothing serious. Then, as my mom's birthday approached in July I realized how sad she was that she wouldn't have Kim to talk to on her birthday, so I sneakily got Jacob's phone number from her phone and text him asking him to reach out to my mom on her birthday. He did and of course mom was ecstatic to have heard from him.

Now, having each other’s phone numbers, we talked every couple of weeks. By December, we were talking every day and joking about meeting each other. I finally got brave (probably a late night on Ambien) and asked "what would you do if I showed up at your door one day?" I don't recall his answer, but it was something to the extent of he would be excited. That was my green light! I started looking at flights and booked a weekend trip for March.

As Valentine's Day approached, he was starting to feel me out to see if there were any other guys in the picture by asking if I'd get flowers from anyone--I said “No...I never get flowers on Valentine's Day.” As it turned out, I didn’t get flowers that Valentine’s Day either, but not because of lack of effort on his end--he actually ordered flowers for me, but the flower shop was so busy that they didn't deliver them that day. Towards the end of the day, he confessed that I should have received flowers--I was so surprised (and he was quite angry)! Needless to say, when the flowers arrived the following day, I was swooning...

Stay tuned for Part 2 of our Love Story…

Why Livingston Way?

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As most of you know, this blog used to be called “Life & Times of the Intelligent Blonde.”  Everyone knows that “dumb blonde” is an overrated stereotype but my oldest brother used to give me the hardest time about it, so the title was fitting.

You probably also noticed that I used to write under Alana Christine and you probably never saw my last name used.  You might have thought that was to protect my identity, but what you don’t know is that I wrote under that pen name because I hated my last name (and the man it came from). I wanted nothing to do with any adulterous man who would treat his wife and children as poorly as he did. It’s bad enough that they simply added an “a” to the end of his name to create my first name (clever, right?), but to be stuck with a last name that I was mercilessly mocked for in Elementary School was just too much (kids obviously aren't very creative, calling me "Duffle Bag," but they were hurtful nonetheless).  My blog was a place for me to be the person I wanted to be with no regard to my name.

I always looked forward to the day I would marry not only because that meant I had found my soul mate, but also because that meant I could change my last name.  I absolutely love my new last name and I’m so glad I get the opportunity to redefine myself, starting with the thing I once hated so much about myself (my last name). 

Livingston Way has many meanings:

1. The most literal meaning…learning to be a wife (and a Livingston).
2. I think of "Livingston Way" as an address…a place that God led me—I was destined to end up here.
3. It’s a new frame of mind…I am finally able to let go of what I was most self-conscious about and move forward.

I am so excited about this new journey and I can’t wait to catch you up on everything that you've missed out on! Be sure to follow me on Bloglovin’ so you can read along (if you had previously followed Life & Times, you will need to follow me again to be synced to Livingston Way—sorry for the inconvenience).

Next up? I’m thinking Our Love Story would be a good place to start…