The Back Story...

Twelve years ago today I met Rupert for the first time - it was love at first sight. I believe in love at first sight - because it has happened twice for me, and the two loves are linked inextricably in my life.



The first time, I was 16, and visiting a girlfriend who lived just across the road. Who just happened to have a very cute brother, who was at home. Our eyes met...and we both knew. It was just karma, chemistry, whatever you want to call it. Chris was a mechanic and loved nothing more than getting dirty under cars. His idea of dressing up was clean jeans. I was working for a large corporate and getting fully into the 80's champagne and high living. Chris was a free spirit - loved hanging out with his mates, doing a few recreational drugs and a lot of booze, and generally having a good time going fast in cars and on motorbikes. I was toying with religion, trying to find answers for things that had happened to me, and spending time learning how the business world worked and which high heels went with which suit. A match NOT made in heaven - yet it mostly worked. We dated, spent time with his family who took me to their hearts, took trips away. We argued like the blazes, split up more than once, but were always drawn back together.



The last time we broke up was devastating but we both knew we either had to change ourselves drastically, or just move on. So we moved on. We both met other people. I got married first, a big mistake and done for all the wrong reasons to the wrong person. On the way to the church in the back of the limo Chris pulled up alongside on his motorbike - purely by accident. I think the wedding party were a little concerned I was going to jump on, full princess wedding dress and all, and roar off into the sunset. I wish I had.



Chris married not long after, and we stayed in touch for a couple of years. I remember seeing him one day, and feeling so drawn to him - both of us were struggling with our marriages, and we talked about how easy it would be to do the wrong thing. And at that point we made the decision that we should cut off any and all contact - we both desperately wanted our respective marriages to work.



Of course, my marriage didn't work, and I moved back home with my Mum for a year while waiting for the wee lifestyle block we had owned to sell. I can't say I regret those six years of marriage - I learned a great deal, but I do still wish I hadn't wasted all that time! Unknown to me, Chris and his wife also separated and he went looking for me at the farmlet but couldn't remember the right road. As for me...I looked him up in the phone book and saw he was still listed with his wife so decided to leave well enough alone.



Finally the farm sold, and I put a deposit on a small unit with my share of the proceeds and got down to rebuilding my life. I was working as an assistant accountant in a very busy role, as well as chat hosting on the internet. For fun I'd hang out in a chatroom of Aucklanders and we'd occasionally meet up and go clubbing, or for dinner. I dated a few guys I met through that, and it was a little like a second chance at being a teenager. Until. Until.



I got a call at work - a friend of a friend had tracked me down to tell me that Chris was in hospital - he had melanoma and from what they knew it was terminal. I dropped everything and raced up to the hospital - when I saw him I nearly cried - so thin and tired. But his eyes were still the same, WE were still the same. I sat with him and we talked and talked. He told me he was staying with his parents and that he wanted me to move in as well so he could see me often. I agreed - what else could I do? And so began two months of the most difficult, beautiful, heartbreaking, funny, agonising time for me. I had a mattress on the floor next to his bed. I'd look after him at night to give his Mum a break. A couple of times we stayed at the Hospice so he could get his medications sorted. I gave him morphine, held his hand, helped him toilet and bath, and generally did whatever I could to keep his spirits up. Late at night while he slept I would go outside and just cry and cry. His mother and I knew there was no hope, and I hope I was as much comfort to her as she was to me.



Once a week or so I would go home to my empty little flat and do my laundry, collect my mail, and get a full night's sleep. Those nights were actually the worst - I was lonely and sad and trying to fit in a long working day with fitful sleep and all the emotional baggage I was dealing with. This one night, I logged onto the chatroom and started chatting with a guy I had talked to briefly before. Before I knew it I had invited him over for coffee - I spent the next half hour deciding where to hide when he knocked on the door. It wasn't that I was scared of him - we had a real life friend in common - but I just was so tired and sad and anxious. But he knocked on the door, and I opened it, and it was love at first sight again. It was so out of character for both of us - two lonely sad people finding each other when we were most open to it.



Twelve years ago that was how I met Rupert. He hugged me like we had known each other for ages - and that was how it felt. It was pretty obvious we were going to be together for a while at least, so I explained what I was going through. I knew I was onto a winner when he told me he would wait, and do what he could for me to help out. We saw each other a couple of times but I was very conscious of putting Chris first - and I didn't tell Chris about Rupert because I knew he would push me away, not wanting to interfere in my life. A couple of weeks later Chris asked me to marry him - he was very much in denial (at least publicly) about his cancer, and felt that me coming back to look after him was like a second chance at happiness. I agreed, and phoned Rupert the next day from work to tell him - he told me that I was to do whatever would make Chris happy, and we'd sort it all out later. I felt so safe with him.



Chris got sicker and sicker - more and more tired, and weak. We had some good talks, some laughs about things of the past, and his dreams for the future. It was such a sad time, yet there was so much joy in being with him. One night he lapsed into a coma and I knew the end was very near. He woke up briefly a little later that night, held my hand, and told me he loved me. Those were the last things he ever said. The next evening I didn't go there - I wanted it to be just his family around him. And honestly - I didn't think I could bear it. In my heart I already knew he was gone - seeing his final moments would have been just too much.



The call came from his father in the evening, that Chris was gone. So much of what I felt is confused - sadness and sorrow, yet relief that it was over for him. The pain he was in and the ever increasing amounts of morphine - well, that was no way for anyone to live, and I still strongly hold to the view that in such circumstances euthanasia is a kind option.



Rupert came over that night and held me for the longest time. And there, in the saddest time of my life, began a new love, one that had its foundation in my grief and us finding each other when we most needed someone. The funeral was terrible - huge and sad. Chris was buried in his motorbike leathers in a beautiful country cemetery. The day after the funeral his father called me - they had found a note in his drawer saying he wanted to be cremated. Just like Chris! And I understood then that he knew he wasn't going to make it, and the dreams we talked about would always remain just dreams. I'm glad I played along ... I am glad that he had that at least, rather than me telling him that those dreams wouldn't come true because he was going to die.



Twelve years later, I cry a little when I think of Chris. And am very grateful that then and now I have Rupert. I am so glad I invited him over for coffee. So very very glad. Was it coincidence that I met the second love of my life while farewelling the first? I don't think so. And now, to make a happy marriage even happier, we have Grace. Life is a strange, and wonderful thing.