Season 3

Not the season I thought, wanted, or expected.

Love is a beautiful and devastatingly fucked up thing. It requires us to trust- to take a leap without any guarantee whatsoever that it’s going to work out. It requires us to hold nothing back, to lean in fully, to be our most vulnerable, authentic selves. It doesn’t make any sense and we don’t consciously choose to do it. Sometimes it hits a like a freight train, out of nowhere and uncontrollably. Sometimes it creeps up on us, so slowly, that we hardly notice until it’s too late. And then after all that, sometimes the person we love doesn’t love us in return.

This isn’t quite what happened to me. There were so many plot twists that my head and heart were left spinning. I no longer know which way is up and which way is down.

I saw a video on Instagram, recently, of these girls talking about being in the third season of the TV show that is their lives. Season three is when the series really starts to get good. That’s also when it can unravel completely. Viewing this time in my life as the third season is the only way any of it makes sense. Nothing surprises me, and yet it does, but it’s all revealed, in time, to be exactly how the producers (Universe) had always planned it.

In one of my last posts, I talked about the chaos, hiccups, and triumphs that I had trudged through over the last several months. If that didn’t show you I was in my third season, I don’t know what could have. But what I didn’t talk about was the biggest plot twist of all- falling in love again.

I wrote about *Chase after we first met. I wasn’t ready to tell the rest of our story though. It was mine. I was holding it close to my heart. It was unexpected. It was gut-wrenching. It was beautiful.

Chase has been the single constant in my life since I started this whole journey almost a year ago. We met on a whim. It was nothing special. No fireworks, no butterflies, no aha moment where I knew he was the one. I wasn’t in that space and neither was he. We met by chance, on an app we were both using by chance, for no other reason than to just meet people. No expectations, no obligations. I met him in the 72-hour window he allowed himself to have on the app before he deleted it. Chase doesn’t use his phone. He rarely has it on him, and when he does, it’s on airplane mode. I’ve seen him go on week-long trips and just leave his phone at home. No social media, no nothing. He might as well be a ghost. And maybe he is. So it’s remarkable what had to align for us to not only match, but to actually meet.

After the first night we met, despite no monumental moments, we continued to want to spend time together. We would both work during the day and then meet at his house afterward. Sometimes we’d cook dinner, sometimes we’d share a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, sometimes we would just lay in bed, in the dark, for hours talking about anything and everything. Most of the time it was all of the above. We were enjoying each other’s company. Our curiosity fueled our conversations and the minutes turned into hours and then we would both realize we had to work in the morning so we’d better go to bed.

The thing about it, though, was it was different. It felt spiritual. It felt cosmic. And we both knew it, even though we didn’t realize it, until we did.

I wrote about him leaving Montana after only a few short weeks together. His job called him to Texas and he was on a plane the next day. That’s how his job was. That’s how the industry is. He works in the film business, so unless you’re Brad Pitt, you have to go when they say go. If you don’t, they find someone who will.

It was in that moment that I think we both realized what this was. That this wasn’t just some casual thing, that we weren't just people to pass the time with. We both knew it was special, but what were we supposed to do about it?

He left and I was devastated. We stayed in touch and, until about a month later, I didn’t realize he felt the same way. I had tried to push my feelings down, I was getting divorced after all. I couldn’t be falling in love again, and I certainly couldn’t be falling in love after only a few weeks. It didn’t feel like what I thought love felt like. Like what I had felt with my ex-husband Tom. It felt like home. Like something that had always been there but had only just been activated. It felt divinely inspired.

A month after he left, I had been trying to let it go, and stay in touch but not have expectations. I dated around and tried (sort of) to move on but also held out hope of what could be. I tried to do whatever I was doing before he came along. But I couldn’t. Then I found out he felt that way too, only he had this unspoken expectation that we would just wait and see.

I hurt him. Me trying to let go hurt. It hurt me too. I realized in that moment that this wasn’t a fleeting feeling. It was the beginning of one.

We continued to talk, always encouraging each other and sending small gestures of love. A picture, a dream, a thought. That became the constant.

I went to visit him in November for a week in Florida. It was as if he'd never left. When I got to his hotel, he gave me this long intimate hug and said, “Welcome home.” That’s how it felt.

Our week was magical but not for any reason other than we were physically together. We drove all over Florida, him singing loudly and out of key when he chose the music, or rolling his eyes when I did unless it was Eddy Money, Tom Petty, or rap music. The windows were always rolled down and the AC blasted, no matter how fast we drove.

He showed me his secret beach spot and we watched the sunset, we laid in bed and watched lightning like I’d never seen, light up the sky for hours. But again, nothing monumental. Just tiny moments of joy and love.

The last night we spent together I was so sad. I think he was too. For those five days, we’d escaped back into each other, away from all the things that made up our separate lives.

When I left I didn’t know when I’d see him again. Hopefully soon, but who knows? I had no money, I had no idea when my life would clear up, and he had no definitive future because his jobs were like that, so we just went back to our respective lives.

We continued to talk most days, the same as it had always been. Months went by. It seemed like this was just going to be what it was. But the way I felt never wavered because I always knew in my heart what it was. I was in love. Hopelessly and uncontrollably in love.

Our ultimate dream was to travel together, living each day as it came. When I finalized my divorce, that reality began to take shape. I bought my camper and sorted out all my stuff. He was doing the same, with the goal of eventually joining me off-grid. I fantasized what our life would look like, but I didn’t hold my breath. I had become used to the idea of living a solitary life with him just in the background. Even though my whole heart felt like it was his, I knew this was my life to live.

One day out of the blue he texted me that in a few weeks, he’d be ready to join me off-grid. I knew that text would eventually come, but my heart stopped for a second when it actually did. How was this going to work? How was he going to fit into my life? We’d never spent any long-term amount of time together so I was really afraid. But I also trusted my heart. I trusted him. I trusted that we had come this far. Too far not to at least try. I also didn’t really believe it. I just kept making plans as if it would be just me and my dogs. But a few weeks later he booked a ticket and flew out to Montana.

The day he flew in I about shit my pants. I was so nervous and excited and fearful of what this meant. I knew it was a big deal, but I didn’t know what to expect. When I picked him up it felt the same as it always had, but it also felt different. I had waited for this moment for far too long, and yet I was sad because I somehow felt it would be over soon. Our entire relationship had been undefined with no beginning or ending written. We just existed in the moment with each other, taking it as it came. But now that he was here, I couldn’t help but feel consumed by the fear that this was only temporary.

We camped up at Flathead for a few nights. We explored Glacier and swam at the lake. It was magical. We drove to Polbridge one morning to get huckleberry bear claws. Then we drove to Glacier and made our way up the Going-To-The-Sun Road. I’d felt the magic of Glacier, but to share it with him was something so special. He’d never seen it, so I gave him the full tour. We drove to Many Glacier and basked in the sun and smokeless sky while we sat on the rocks feeling small from the mountains that took up most of the horizon. We drove through East Glacier and cut back on the road to the Izaak Walton so I could show him the lodge. I had talked up the trains and the bridge over the tracks to him, so I was really hoping the Universe would deliver for me on my promise of amazement to him.

The Izaak Walton Inn is the exact halfway point between East and West Glacier. It was originally going to be a third entrance to the park. The lodge was built for tourists and the property served as a train stop for passengers on the Great Northern Railroad. The project folded for some reason, but the lodge and the trains remained. You can stay in the lodge or up on the hill in cabooses converted into suites that overlook the entire property. The path to the cabooses crosses a bridge over the tracks and, if you're lucky, you'll catch a train speeding underneath you.

The lodge was closed for the summer, but I told Chase I wanted to show him the bridge anyway, in the off chance we could catch a train. The Universe delivered. As we walked up the steep incline on the grated metal path, I saw the lights of a train coming. I literally jumped and ran up to the top and told him to hurry. We held on to the metal poles and aligned our feet with the tracks below us. As the train approached I made the universal honking motion truckers and conductors know so well. We held on and the gush of wind hit us like a ton of bricks as the horn blared and the cars sped by in front, then under, then behind us. We watched the whole train travel beneath us one car at a time. I looked at him and he said he was not expecting that and would cherish this moment forever. I felt the same way.

The next day when I woke up, he told me he had a job offer in Chicago. I asked him when he would have to leave and he said immediately. My heart sank again. Not again. We briefly talked about the plan being that we would travel and if he got a job we would just go wherever it would take us, but the future was definitely unknown.

I was devastated. Again. How could it be cut so short? He just got here. We’d waited nine months for this. But I was excited for him. He needed the work and it would be his first job since Yellowstone when he was in Montana and Texas. They booked him a flight for the next day.

That day we went to the beach and I was feeling all sorts of ways. I wanted to know if he wanted me to come with him, Michigan- my first big destination- was surprisingly close to Chicago. What did this mean for our future? What did he want?

I decided to ask him. I wanted it to be different this time. When he left for Texas I didn’t tell him how I felt or what I wanted and I regretted that. This time, though, my feelings were too big. He had cracked something wide open in me and I was here for all of it. He had me. I was surprised and annoyed and all consumed with the love I had for him. Everything from the goofy smile he makes, almost as if he’s looking at himself when he talks about his family; to the way he talks with his half-Pittsburgh, half-Florida accent; to the way his brain works and how absolutely brilliant he is and his unmatched take on the world; to his too hot to handle body that I literally want to rip all the clothes off, all the time- luckily he’s shirtless basically all the time; or to the way he’s quiet and speaks intentionally and sits in stillness while we look up at the stars on top of the picnic table or lay in bed for hours; or his incredible thoughtfulness and the way he always knows exactly how to show me, through small acts, just how much he cares.

I rehearsed what I was going to say, over and over again in my head, while I waited for the right moment to say it. I asked him what we were doing. Did he see a future with me or did he just want to play it by ear? Does he want me to come to Chicago? He didn’t have any answers for me. He didn’t even know what to expect when he got there, what his days would look like, or how long he’d even be there. I asked him if he wanted to keep doing this- if he liked the adventure we were on and he said yes.

I had to be ok with not knowing, but my heart hurt. I didn’t need a commitment, but I really wanted him to say something more definitive.

The next day, as we drove back to Missoula, I was full of fear. I wanted answers but knew I’d never get them, at least right then. As we walked into the airport, I told him I was sad. He said he was too. We will both hold this memory in a special place in our hearts. Hopefully, it won’t be another nine months before we do it again.

This time felt different. Him being here. It felt different from the get-go. Having that conversation on the beach felt different. Hugging him for what felt like forever and only a few seconds, before he went to his gate, felt different too. I kissed him and he made his way up the escalator. When I got back into my car, I cried. Like ugly cried. I had let myself fall hopelessly in love with someone in a way that changed me forever and I didn’t know how to go back from that. I didn’t know how to just resume life like we’d been living before.

Chase is the most private and guarded person I’ve ever met. He’s hardened himself over the years from a lifetime of loss and instability. He’s protective of his heart as a way of self-preservation, so the tiny bit he gave me felt like such a gift.

I knew I had to be patient. I knew that’s what I signed up for with him. Distance made it harder to allow me to seep in because, on some level, it was just a dream. Now that it felt real I could see him pulling away. It didn’t surprise me, but it simultaneously shattered me. But why would he do anything different? Even though I’d also been a constant in his life for the last year, he couldn’t always count on people. He tried to live exclusively on self-reliance. And it worked for him, it protected him.

But how does love play into that? I’m still trying to figure that out and I think he is too. He texted me a couple of days after he got to Chicago and told me he wants to be friends forever but he doesn’t think I’m his life partner. When I saw that I wasn’t surprised because he’s consistently been a lone wolf since the day I met him, wondering if he’s meant to ever be in partnership with anyone. But it also broke me. I was confused, devastated, and angry at the Universe. I felt like all the air had been taken out of my lungs. My heart didn’t feel like it had been ripped out, it felt like it had been cut into a million tiny pieces. I walked around in a daze for days crying and then unable to cry and then crying again.

When he texted me it was in response to our conversation. He had thought about it more and that was what he’d come up with. I asked for clarification on a prior cryptic text, and that was his response. I told him of course I’d always be his friend. That will never change. I told him I was sad but grateful for his honesty. He told me he valued me and that he hoped we could see each other soon.

I didn’t think it was just a bit. I knew that part was true. But what I didn’t believe was that I wasn’t his person. I still don’t believe it. We’ve shared too much, our story is not over. I know that. I know him too well to believe that that is the truth. My thought, as delusional as it may be is that he feels exactly the same way as me but he’s not ready to admit to himself that he does because that would require him to throw out all his rules for self-preservation and actually be vulnerable. I know this to be true. Maybe I’m crazy, but I’m letting that tiny kernel of hope keep me going. I can't read his mind. I still have to face the facts and accept what he said as what he meant as hard as it is and as much as I don't believe him.

I’ve got work to do. Chase was an incredible motivator. He helped me chase- pun intended- my dreams and make them a reality. But now he was a distraction. He and I both have shit to figure out. If our paths align, then that will be. For now, I have to keep going.

So I’m going to Michigan. With or without him. I’m gonna put my heart in a bag, piece by piece, and haul my ass across the country. Because for a moment when he got here, I forgot what I was doing and why I was doing it.

Yes, I love him. I love him with every fiber of my being. I don’t know if that will ever change. But I also have an obligation to finish what I started. So yes, I’m taking my ass to Michigan. That’s a place I wanted to stop on my first leg of the trip. I’ve never seen the UP and I’ve heard it’s a must-see.

Do I still believe that Chase is my person? Without a doubt. Do I feel gutted and sometimes hopeless and hate that I feel this way? Also yes. Am I angry at the Universe and feel like love is a cruel joke I was the butt of? Again yes. But you know what else I feel? Immense gratitude that I was able to fall in love and that my heart, after feeling debilitating grief from the loss of my marriage, was able to open itself to another. I feel lucky to have, and still have the connection I do with Chase. Whether our paths will align in the way I want them to or not I will cherish what was and is for the rest of my life. Not everyone gets to experience the kind of love I felt and still feel, maybe not even Chase, but the fact that I was able to love him I will not take for granted.

But you know what? I’m in my third season. Anything can happen. My job, my storyline is to keep trudging and to do what is right in front of me. So that’s what I’m doing. They say in my recovery program, “When your ass is falling off, put it in a bag and take it to a meeting.” So that’s what I’m doing. One day at a time I’m slowly chipping away. Did Chase throw a wrench in my plan and fuck up my timeline? Yes. But I’m on the Universe’s timeline, not mine. I’ve been in Montana WAY longer than I planned, but the end is in sight.

Also plot twist: Chase’s job ended unexpectedly on Friday and he texted me today that he's going to Alaska. I love that idea, I love that he's following his heart. I asked what's in Alaska and he told me it just feels like the right timing.

Timing has never been in our favor, maybe our love story is a tragedy of missed opportunities, or maybe it was the strike of lightning we both needed to tell our own stories.

Our story might not be over. But I'm here, hanging on for dear life to my own, while simultaneously embracing the wave of serenity that has washed over me in this strange and devastating and beautiful and fucked up season.

So yeah, season three.

*I tried my best to capture the magic of this moment, but this video doesn't do it justice.

*Photo credit Isa Tomazeli Photography.

*I changed Chase's name as a courtesy and to protect his anonymity.