I’m nearing the end of radiation treatment. On Monday, it will be done. Looking back, this past month hasn’t been bad at all. I think it’s been as good as it can be. No one wants to go through any kind of treatment, but this doesn’t feel like a medical treatment. It feels like something has been added to my routine for a month – just another thing to complete each day, like brushing my teeth. All of the radiation technicians and my doctor have been amazing. Radiation doesn’t have the overshadowing of “doom and gloom” that chemo had. I’ve even been making friends in the waiting room.

Throughout the past month, something has happened that I didn’t see coming… I started getting into a new relationship.

Like What? Why now? Yea, that’s what I was thinking too.

As luck, or fate, or whatever would have it, I’ve been getting to know a guy better that I’ve known for over two years. He had an on/off girlfriend most of the time I’ve known him, but he caught my eye from the moment I met him. The physical attraction has always been there. As I got to know him with small encounters here and there, I learned some things about him, but not the whole picture. So, I made assumptions early on and excluded him as someone that wouldn’t be in my dating pool.

At the end of last year, I chatted with him occasionally. When an encounter between us would end, I found myself wanting to know more about him. I was interested, but I wasn’t going to push anything, especially since he had a long-term girlfriend. And, as detours in life happen, I was diagnosed with breast cancer in mid-November and my mind shifted from wondering about potential new relationships to focusing on my health and immediate family. That’s all I had the energy for.

One day in early January, he informed me that he and his girlfriend had broken up. That sparked my interest, but I was doubtful anything could really happen between him and me. I was about to get a boob lopped off and start cancer treatment. It didn’t seem like a good time to let him know I was interested. And I valued him as a friend, so I decided it wasn’t best to pursue anything outside of friendship. I know men aren’t mind-readers, but I figured he’d do the pursuing if he had interest too.

Before I knew it, I was going through the recovery process of a mastectomy. The possibility of ever dating again was gone. It took me the full 6 weeks to recover from that surgery and it was tough. The first week was a blur – my new normal was being zonked out on pain medication and overall discomfort. As I started to heal in the first few weeks, I’d get occasional texts from this man. He’d check on me, see if I needed anything, and then leave me alone. His texts would come when I needed it most. He’d tell me a joke and we’d banter back and forth. I started to look forward to his texts, and I was bummed when I wouldn’t hear from him.

Many friends checked on me during that time, but he was the only one (outside of my immediate family) that consistently checked on me. I knew I could reach out to him if I wanted to, but I felt like he’d think I’d want more than a friendship, which I wasn’t sure about. I didn’t want to seem like some kind of desperate person, trying to get attention because I was at a low point in my life. So, I did nothing.

As we moved into Spring, I went back to work and we chatted/texted sometimes. He was so great to talk to, but it never lasted long. There was always and interruption. And I was about to start chemo. In my mind, no one wants to start a relationship with someone who’s going through chemo. And I figured no one going through chemo would feel good enough to keep up a new relationship. I also didn’t know the real him that well. I did on the surface, but not too personally. All of our conversations were “light” and “fun”. Nothing too in-depth. I sensed there was more depth there by a few comments he made, but I held back, especially with chemo on the horizon.

As chemo started, he continued to check on me. For the entire 12 weeks, I’d hear from him every few weeks. It was weird, because I was seriously in the dumps, and he’d surface right when I needed him most. On chemo, there are some very bad days – physically, mentally, emotionally. He’d send a message when I’d be in the middle of a crying meltdown, and just the fact that he thought to reach out was enough to cheer me up.

Once chemo was over, I continued on my usual path: Single, trying to be a good mom, healing, and forging ahead to what was next — radiation treatments. And I did just that. Then one Friday, I got a message from him. He started a light conversation and proceeded to tell me that he thought I needed someone, and he wanted to set me up with his friend.

I was very surprised at this. He started telling me about his “friend”. I was a little bummed because I wanted to get to know him more, not his friend. I went along with asking questions about his friend. This lasted until the next morning. I was suspicious about the whole thing. Something was off about how he was describing his friend.

Finally, he confessed there was no friend. He initially planned to set me up with his “friend” and then he was going to show up instead, but he second-guessed himself. He was afraid I’d be mad at him for doing that. I’m not sure how I would’ve felt. I was already disappointed we were talking about his friend when I wanted to get to know him better. When he fessed up, I had a wave of relief over me. And then he said he’d like to take me out sometime and that he’d been wanting to for a while.

My female brain malfunctioned in that moment. I’m pretty sure I went back to being 15 years old again. I turned into a smooshy bag of girl mush. I told him I’d love to go out with him too. We mutually admitted we both wanted to be more than friends after 6 long months.

The very next weekend, he took me to dinner. We chatted the whole drive. Chatted the whole dinner. Chatted the whole drive back. He picked me up and dropped me off back at home. It was an expensive dinner, and he paid. I was actually nervous and so happy to be with him. I was learning even more great stuff about him. We’ve continued to talk almost every night (for hours), have had more dates, and even got together once with our kids. He has a son and I have my two kids.

I don’t see signs of this stopping (even though I’ve looked every which way for them). I’m glad radiation is almost over, and I’m really happy a great friend is turning into something more than I ever imagined. We’re moving along at a slow pace, but it’s good pace for both of us right now.

Stifle Me Not