Breaking up while remaining a couple is something I imagine only a small few have experienced.

When you leave behind your entire support system to move across the world with the love of your life, it takes a gigantic amount of faith. I remember Lover Boy and I constantly cooing into each other’s ears “love is all we need.” Well I’m here to call total bullshit on that one.

We’re one year into our lives in Sweden and I find myself no longer planning a wedding, but a move back to the United States alone.

It seemed in the months following our engagement, little by little things weren’t right. Things that can’t be explained, just felt. The love was there, and still is. But there are bigger things at play than just love. Lifetimes of experiences, some good, mostly bad, that were never dealt with. When you live your life burying these ghosts of childhood’s past they can find their way to the surface quite quickly once you start planning a future. Thoughts of your children’s childhood, memories of things you’ve worked so hard to keep hidden start clawing their way to the surface. Doubts begin to creep into your mind. Then one day, you can’t keep it hidden anymore.

Lover Boy and I have fought and fought to keep things the way they used to be in the beginning. But some things can choke out the light. So as my days here in Sweden are numbered, it becomes more and more difficult to imagine a life away from here. A life away from Lover Boy. The decision to leave was an immensely difficult one that took several weeks of discussing what is best for each of us before the flight was booked.

Lover Boy will remain here in Sweden, fighting the fight over those childhood demons. I will return to the U.S. where I will very slowly and painfully try to rebuild a life there. Through it all, we have refused to call it quits on us. We are still together, still in love. Just very lost and very confused. We are hoping that our paths, though now running separately, will run parallel and eventually cross again, very soon.

In the worst moments, usually at night, when I lay tossing and turning next to the love of my life with tears running down my cheeks, I find myself softly repeating “love is all you need, all you need is love” in hopes that the chant will bring with it some magical powers to break this curse.

Until that curse can be broken I suppose I should adopt a new motto:

If you love someone enough to spend the REST of your life with them, shouldn’t you be able to somewhat easily plan your wedding together?

LIES I tell you, all LIES.

I thought once I slipped that cushion cut sparkler onto my eagerly waiting finger that life, plans, schedules, would all just fall into place. Wrong. Wrong again.

Since December, we have changed the wedding date, theme, size, city, location, and continent, FIVE times. As an adult, I’m finding it very interesting that the wedding I imagined as a little girl, the wedding I thought was of my dreams, is actually of my nightmares. The money, the bad DJ, the feuding families, the dress worth more than my first car, the endless choices, decisions, offenses. Ugh, I say!

I’m starting to see why Carrie and Mr. Big ended up at the court-house. If only my Mr. Big saw things the same way..

Here’s to a lifetime of love, happiness, and indecision.

So it’s official! Lover Boy popped the question. It was something out of a Nicholas Sparks novel, the Botanical Gardens dripping in Christmas lights, him down on one knee with the ring of my dreams cushioned in a velvet lined box. I was speechless, other than the “yes, yes, yes, yes!” that I mustered with loud exuberance! Then we were greeted at the bar in the middle of the gardens by my closest friends and family for champagne and shots. It couldn’t possibly have been more perfect!

Here’s to a life of love, happiness, and lots of little Swedish babies 🙂

When you move across the world for a person you love it’s exciting, romantic, adventurous! All you need is love, right?

You don’t realize in the beginning, but this person you love so much suddenly has to be absolutely everything to you. More than anyone should ever have to be.

They have to be greater than your family, your friends, your job, your culture, your food, your shops, your language, your home, your pets, your financial independence, your society, your politics, your security.

Then one day when you’re struggling to do the simplest of tasks like buy groceries or order a coffee you think, “Is one person worth everything? Every single thing in my world? Can he really fill the black hole that has been created by leaving everything I’ve ever known?”

Most days the answer is a resounding yes. But some days, some very sad and lonely days, the answer in no.

And on these rare occasions your whole world stops existing.

She could have stayed on that couch all night, looking into those deep blue Swedish eyes, listening to him stumble over his English and blush, like a school boy. But there was still an unnecessary desire to end the night leaving him wanting more.

She couldn’t focus on what he was saying, as her mind raced, searching for the least awkward way to draw the evening to an end.

Before she could even think of a clever out, he locked eyes with her, his dimples perfectly framed his coy smile as he said, “It’s time for me to go now.”

Her mouth took her by surprise as she blurted out “Oh no, it’s still so early! Don’t go!”

He looked at his watch, studying it just long enough to give her hope, “No, I must go.”

She felt herself deflate from the inside out.

He lifted her chin gently with his hand, “We both have work so early in the morning, so you’re going to walk me to the door and give me a goodnight kiss.” This type of statement from a man, especially on a first date, would typically make her blood boil. But this wasn’t typical. He wasn’t typical. The way he looked at her wasn’t typical. She felt a smile fill her entire face and her cheeks flush and tingle.

They walked to the door as she braced herself for what was to come. Before she could even thank him for the wonderful evening, he slid his hand against her cheek and gently kissed her goodnight. In that instant, she lost all feeling from the knees down. Her stomach flooded with a rush of butterflies and her head tingled and burned. She threw her arms around his neck and passionately kissed him back. He moved his hands to her waist and with one pull he lifted her up and pushed her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist as they continued to kiss. In that instant she saw sound, she felt color, she understood the meaning of life. There were no questions, only answers.

He lowered her back down to the floor. He smiled and with his forehead against hers said “Goodnight.”

She clumsily reached for the door knob behind her as she continued to stare into those deep blue Swedish eyes. She felt her fingers grasp the lever as she tugged the door open. He stepped into the hall. She opened her mouth to offer a kind “goodnight” and instead found herself pulling him towards her. They stumbled back a bit until she felt herself pressed against her open front door. With his lips still touching hers, he smiled and muttered “I really must go now.”

Completely out of breathe and still unable to feel from the knees down, she couldn’t even find words. How was it that the American was at a loss for words? She was amazed, baffled, and completely taken. She simply leaned against the door frame and smiled, waving delicately.

She closed the door and slid down the wall, until her butt hit the floor. All she could mutter aloud to herself was “Oh.My.God….Oh.My.God….OhmyGod.” She reached for her cell phone in her back pocket and dialed Mom.

“Hi Honey! How was your date?!”

To that she replied with the most honest and poetic statement of her life: “Mom, it should be called Swedish Kissing, not French Kissing.”

And with that a romance was born.