Those Seven Words...

“Forgive me but, do I know you?”

That was the sentence that kicked off my relationship with Aaron.  It was super funny, actually. You see, I just sort of friend requested him on Face Book out of the clear blue sky.  I had never met him. I had never even seen him a day before in my life.  But, I had just served a suspension notice on one of my guys at work that day, a task that always took the wind out of my sails.  So to take my mind off things, I jumped on Face Book.  As I was waiting for the impossibly slow precinct gate to open, I noticed that the social media giant suggested Aaron as someone I might know.  

He was painfully handsome and his photograph demanded my full attention.  Uhmm, yes, I should definitely know him, I thought as I clicked on his profile surprised to see how many friends we had in common.  The icing on the cake was his employment: Technician, Buddy Stubbs Harley Davidson.   Hey! That's where I take my bike to get serviced.  Who knew the technicians there were this hot?

With a shrug of my shoulders and a grin on my face, I clicked the “add friend” button.  The gate finally opened and I drove off.

By the time I hit my first red light, I received the message from Aaron asking if we knew each other.  I was so embarrassed.  How would I explain that we didn't and that I hit the friend request button because I thought he was beyond handsome?  The answer to that is simple:  I wouldn't.  Instead, I joked that we had known each other for decades and then finally admitted that I was just kidding. I mentioned being intrigued by the number of mutual friends we shared and told him I thought it was cool that he worked at my local motorcycle shop.  I then let him off the hook and wrote “no worries....next time I’m in Stubbs, I’ll give you a shout out and you can come say hi.  Till then, take great care!”  

By the time I arrived home, I saw that he accepted my friend request anyway.   Our conversation via messenger reached a feverish pace only allowing short breaks when he was typing me back in order that I could check out his other pictures.  About 45 minutes into our conversation, he asked if I was single.

Based on his profile picture, I pegged him as a 40 year old.  Maybe 39.  The scruff threw me off.   But, Face Book revealed that he was born 2/6/1983.  Well, shit.

He must be trying to set me up with his dad, I thought to myself.   I found that so endearing since I was always on the look out for potential mates for my mom.  I was bold about it too, literally approaching good looking, older men and asking if they were single in hopes they’d take my mom out to dinner and live happily ever after. 

I messaged Aaron back, told him I was single, and in the way I always feel an explanation was needed, I added “yeah, sorta hard finding a strong enough man to knock down the door of a female police commander who also rides her own Harley Davidson motorcycle!”

I nearly fell off my couch when I learned it was Aaron that wanted to have dinner with me.

My stomach sank to the floor with the realization that he couldn’t know my age since my birth year isn’t listed on my profile.  I simply responded “I’m very flattered but I’m much older than you....”

I then became distracted with cleaning my house, a rather useless task given my two dogs that shed even while I’m vacuuming.  But, the conversation continued the rest of the afternoon into the evening.  Turns out, Aaron didn’t care that he was 14 years younger than me.  I certainly cared but he didn’t.  So, I agreed to dinner thinking it’s just one date and perhaps I’d make a new friend out of it.

We became more than friends and the rest is history.  And, while a relationship that starts via the internet on September 18, 2015 and ends on June 23, 2016 isn’t the longest relationship in the history of the world, it was ours while it lasted and it was beautiful.  I often go through our old messages, reading them over and smiling at the funny and endearing way it all started.  I’m amazed at how quickly we got to know each other and how some days we could talk for hours about nothing.  

But then my eyes rest upon the final message he would send via Face Book messenger - a funny video of dogs playing in the ocean.  A red heart emoticon sits underneath as my response to him in return.  I stare at that final exchange dumbfounded by how when I received that message from him, I’d have no way of knowing it would be his last.   

How can this be the last message he'd ever send me?

Shouldn't our last messages have been more profound?  Life doesn't work that way though. Life is just made up of ordinary moments, none of them really all that spectacular, but when strung together they made something extraordinary; a life that I loved.  

Isn’t it something how seven words can change a life forever?  

Forgive me but do I know you?