*Disclaimer: this is a super sappy story. I had doubts about sharing it because it is so private and is now a sacred moment to me.*

On our way home from vacation we passed through Indianapolis. Nick lived there when he was single and then we lived there when we were married so it's a virtual treasure trove of memories. Our antique mall. Our old church. His old neighborhood.

We passed a golf course and Nick told me he used to go hit balls there.

"alone?" I asked stunned. It's weird to think of someone you are with and who goes golfing now with multitudes of men doing something alone.

"Well yeah, I used to do everything alone." he told me.

"That's so sad" I told him. "I don't like the thought of you being alone."

"Well I was. I was waiting for you."

He was waiting for me. This means so much to me on so many levels. But he was waiting for me, and his little heart just knew it. Maybe that's why he said he felt like he had come home when we met. We were just waiting for one another.

It sure makes me feel even crappier for standing him up. Twice. :/