The Italian

Oh, he was definitely my exception. Almost too good to be true (I told him that the first time we exchanged emails), I found the Handsome Italian during my online dating adventure. He was the 1 in 24 that intrigued me enough that I didn't follow my usual habit of jotting down a few notes before the date. In fact, I never wrote about him. How could I when I fell so head over heels so fast? He's who I've always wanted to meet: handsome, European (Italian and French!), driven, smart, worldly, compassionate, athletic, devoted to family, loves to cook and travel, liberal ... really, the list goes on. Definitely, a Renaissance Man. (seriously, a dream guy for me) But sitting here in the middle of the USA, there's no way I would've had we each not turned to online dating. He was in the States as part of his military work as a fighter pilot in the Italian Air Force (see, he just gets better) and was stationed in a very small town in the sticks. Not exactly a spot where a Handsome Italian was going to meet a girl during his three-year stay. Hence the reason he decided to give online dating a try --- on our perfect first date, a quintessential late-winter Sunday morning brunch, he fessed up to the fact that he was actually just looking for friends. And the way he shrugged so many things off, I knew he was also open to something more. Things moved both slow and fast for us ... sometimes it'd be weeks in between the times we'd see each other, but it felt like I was often making the trip to that little town for very romantic, very European-style weekends together, filled with friends, music, and, of course, food. We connected well. We'd spend afternoons playing Scrabble, drinking wine, listening to French composers from the 19th Century, sitting in the hot tub, and stealing away to the bedroom. That was the life I'd always wanted and somehow, someway I'd managed to find it. I loved listening to him speak French with his sister and Italian with his mother and friends. My heart and my spirit fit into his life. I walked around in this dreamy cloud for pretty much the next year. He was busy getting his Masters and working (I mean, flying jets and all!) and I'd just taken a new job, but we always had really enjoyable visits together. We talked about our families, shared our secrets and funny stories, and talked about the world and tried to figure out how we fit into it. He had lots of dreams of places far away and he told me of them the first weekend we spent together. I wanted to go with him --- somewhere, anywhere --- but the war-torn places and third-worlds he was headed to weren't my idea of "let's move back to Italy and raise a family in a vineyard." So, we simply enjoyed the year ... I loved how he'd cook for me and make me Italian coffee in the morning, I loved the way he'd remark about my attire, and more than anything I loved how he'd look at me across a room at a party or lean his head down on my shoulder when he was tired at the end of the night. He challenged me and I loved to make him laugh. We fit together in this little parallel universe we shared, so separate from our individual lives. Our blissful little romance continued even through his move to the northeast ... idyllic weekends continued there when I'd visit and we'd wander off into the fall foliage in search of little hidden bed and breakfasts and cozy coffee spots. We'd talk about how we could be happy in a place like that, teaching at the university, riding bikes in the town square, and raising a family. But we both knew that our spirits longed for more than that, his much more so than mine. We soon realized that our little love affair had to end. I was becoming much too attached and hopeful for a future and it was obvious I wasn't the girl to accompany him through his life's adventures. With him, perhaps more than anyone else, I saw what I wanted my life to be. I loved him and all his demanding little quirks and strong, impassioned beliefs. I was in love with the way I know he will take care of a wife and a family. I found myself hanging on to a lot of loss and sadness when things ended with us. I'd like to find him again somewhere down the road .... but if I don't, I'm so delighted I was a part of his journey.