Having a job that requires me to provide one on one support clients with mental illnesses, I must listen to others stories and problems and woes all day long, all the while encouraging them and recognizing their strengths and positive attributes. This seems to come easily to me, and does not often bother me as I adore hearing people’s stories. “What’s your story?” is a question I love to ask, but dread being asked. That dread is something I am working on, and I think it has a lot to do with the the fact that the sole reason I am in Calgary is because I followed my heart out here. I hate to say, but in the history of my current relationship it has always been me that has done the occassionally immature running away, the leaving. Tim has been the most patient, loving boyfriend over the past three years that a young woman could ever have, and when I found out there was a possibility of him moving elsewhere, it was a no-brainer for me. I am lucky to share a home and a heart with Tim, who has consistently gone way out of his way to ensure that the two of us take advantage of each and every opportunity that comes our way, to have as much fun and as much love as two people could possibly have.

The first time I brought the name Tim into the FB household, my Mom could tell right away that I was “smitten.” Tim wasn’t like any of the other guys I had dated (read: he was intelligent and sane). It may have taken this proper, traditional boy a few months, a lot of hints and even a pretty obvious kiss to actually get around to asking me out, but once he did we were inseparable. Still are, really.

Alternatively, my favourite part of our story is spending our first summer together, apart. We planned for that first summer together to be perfect, with lazy nights by the fire, driving for hours to see each other, doing anything for that person; but for some crazy reason Mom convinced me to take a job that involved me moving way North to a fishing lodge on an island in a town called Nakina – a full days drive from Tim and all things related to home. Tim and I had only been dating four months at that point, and most people would say “So what?” to a four month relationship – but it was always special with Tim and I. We both knew that the both of us were in it for the long haul, and we had that summer planned out perfectly … but it wouldn’t be that way after all. I left in May for four months, and as I packed and talked to my new bosses, I was learning more and more about this fishing lodge. I wasn’t sure how to break it to Tim that there was no internet. Or regular use of a phone. I could use a “party line” (shared phone line between a bunch of lodges) for about 15 minutes a week – but I wasn’t sure how that was going to fly with him. The week before I left, Tim worked hard to ensure that I wouldn’t forget about him – gifts, homemade meals, reminders of our time together and promises of letters all summer long.

Which brings me to the point of my story – The Love Letters. Ooooh, the Love letters. The love letters. The love letters. Three words I can repeat over and over to myself in my head and never get bored of them. Tim promised to write me letters all summer long, a promise he kept over and over and over again. At this point of the story, people who know Tim and I are usually like … Tim wrote you love letters? Like, good ole’ fashioned love letters, not e-mails? Tim the studious, dutch, concrete-construction working farmer knows how to write love letters? I know, not your typical candidate for being very romantically inclined, but I have a box full of letters, every word of which I will cherish forever. Even if in the future if Tim and I aren’t together, I will keep those letters as a reminder of how much expressible love was possible from a man to a woman. And every night shift he works when I am home alone, and questioning to myself why I am putting myself through the loneliness I pull out a letter. Each letter started off with the same simple phrase

“First things first…”

It is meant to be followed with “I love you” but by the end of the summer the last half wasn’t even necessary. It is simply an example of the knowledge of what it so important in maintaining a long distance relationship – the affirmation of undying love, the knowledge that the other persons feelings and emotions always come first.