For the past three years I’ve been lied to, hustled, lusted after, used, but rarely have I been admired by a man. They called me a bitch, crazy, ugly, and so much worse. So when I heard that a guy in another department at my job had a crush on me I didn’t really know what to make of it, and it made me wonder if I was really worth of someone’s admiration again.
When I met the Boston Bear I remember thinking he had kind, inviting eyes. Nothing about the encounter suggested anything romantic. We exchanged names. I explained I was fairly new to the company, and after that I didn’t see him again. Weeks later one of Boston Bear’s coworkers stopped me in the back office.
“So what do you think of the Boston Bear?,” he asked.
“What do you mean? I met him like once. He seems nice,” I replied.
“Well he thinks you’re really pretty.”
Pretty, I thought. I couldn’t help but wonder if Boston Bear needed his eyes fixed. My work uniform makes me looking like I’m carrying an extra 15 pounds on my already voluptuous frame, and since we can’t wear bright makeup, more often than not I look rather plain. Nonetheless, the compliment felt nice. Pretty was one of those words I always wanted to hear from the opposite sex when I was younger. I didn’t see much of the Boston Bear anymore since we worked in different departments, but his co-workers never missed the chance to tell me I needed to give Boston Bear a shot.
“He’s a super sweet guy. You should reach out to him,” they would say.
Love was the last thing on my mind. For the past year, I’ve been struggling to escape a life of homelessness, and despair. So many days I felt broken, less than, and hopeless. A part of me had given up on finding love again. But, I took a leap of faith and sent the Boston Bear a Facebook message. I was touched the Boston Bear read my blog, praised me for my strength in adversity, and didn’t flinch when I shared the heartbreak I had endured or the depression that nearly killed me. The turning point came when the Boston Bear heard I had no way to get to work because my driver's license was suspended. For weeks, he'd take me home, and take me work. On those trips down 264-W on the 40 minute trek to my house, I fell in love with the Boston Bear’s northern accent, his love for his city, and his welcoming brown eyes. One night home, he put his hand on my knee, and I felt flutters in my stomach. I found myself taken back when he opened the car door for me, carried my work bags, and greeted me everyday with, “Hello beautiful.”
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| When your new boo is a Patriots Fan- you just go with it |
The Boston Bear and I have been dating for two months now. He is one of the most selfless people I know. He is kind, patient, hard-working, funny, affectionate, and an amazing listener; so many of the things I prayed for in a partner.
When I was homeless, it was hard to feel safe with a man. Most wanted me physically or were enamored with the little celebrity I had as a television reporter. I thought every man was out to get something from me, and I was always waiting for them to disappoint me.
The Boston Bear didn’t pressure me for sex, or immediately ask to Netflix and Chill. He read my blogs about my suicide attempts and didn’t run. He laid awake with me for hours sharing pieces of himself and his history that few know. He holds my hand in my public, and blow kisses to me from across the room, and he believes in my dreams. He encourages my speaking career, gushes me about to his family and friends. And, when he holds me I feel home, a feeling I’ve wanted for a really long time.
To my Boston Bear….. Thank you for sharing your life and heart with me. Here is to new beginnings. May we grow as lovers, partners, and friends. May we build each other up on hard days. I want to be your harbor in the storm, your biggest cheerleader, and best friend. Thank you for giving me the type of love every good girl deserves. I can’t wait to see all your dreams come true.
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