How a New York singleton rediscovered true romance

Sarah Ivens was thriving on her Sex and the City-style single life in the Big Apple when she received an e-mail from an ex-boyfriend she hadn’t seen for more than a decade. Here she reveals why their romantic reunion has changed her outlook on love for ever

By SARAH IVENS
Last updated at 3:42 PM on 13th February 2009

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Sarah Ivens and Russell Moffett first dated while at university

When my second long-term relationship had broken down to an unworkable level of disrespect 18 months ago, I decided I’d rather be alone than lonely in a relationship. I needed to be single for a bit. 

After a five-year marriage, a divorce at 30, and this rebound relationship following shortly afterwards, I needed to recover and regroup. And what better city to do it in than New York, the land of televised, confident single women.

So, at 32, I was a stereotypical singleton, a Bridget Jones wannabe (yes, I’m British, with a fondness for ice cream and big pants, despite living in the Big Apple). It was tough to be on my own again but it was the right thing to do. I was raw with emotion and really – if I’m honest – I wasn’t good for anyone except myself. 

I moved my disappointed heart to Brooklyn and secured an amazing bunch of manless girlfriends to do cocktails with on Friday, chick flicks on Saturday and yoga
on Sunday. 

I travelled the world alone, sailing the Amazon, swimming with sharks in Bora Bora, hiking up Machu Picchu and learning to meditate in Mexico. 

My working weeks were that of a typical New York singleton: late nights in the office, followed by a rushed takeaway in front of the TV or a trip to the gym, then bath and bed. It was lonely at times, but I actually enjoyed putting myself first for once.

It was an ordinary Tuesday. At 12.41pm on 20 May, an e-mail popped into my inbox and my heart started beating wildly, as
it has been doing ever since 

After a few dire dates and dinners, I’d put men very much on the back burner. I wasn’t actively looking for Mr Right, and certainly not Mr Right Now. 

Yes, there were a few niggling questions hanging over me: would I ever have children and would I grow old alone? But I was content. I’d even secured a book deal to write the rather smugly titled A Modern Girl’s Guide to the Perfect Single Life. 

This wasn’t an act. I was glad to be on my own, without the noose of a selfish man tightening around my self-esteem.

And then a romantic thunderbolt hit. Throughout my life, I knew I’d be struck and it would change everything. I knew I’d need an electric shock to make me stop in my single-girl shoes and consider love as an option. Perhaps that’s why I wasn’t filled with the same need for a date as some of my chums.

It was an ordinary Tuesday. At 12.41pm on 20 May, an e-mail popped into my inbox and my heart started beating wildly, as it has been doing ever since. 

Russell Moffett had got back in touch. 

I’d thought of him over the years, and remembered fondly our brief teenage time together, but after hearing he was in a serious relationship, I didn’t pursue him.

Russell was a boy I’d dated aged 19 at university. Well, dated in as much as we hooked up after flirty nights in the Black Griffin pub in Canterbury. I liked his hair (which at the time he wore in a ponytail) and the way he played the guitar. 

Then, after a few weeks, I got shy, he continued getting drunk with his mates and it all went cold. Going to the library (where I had previously hung out, on the off chance of bumping into him) became strictly off limits. At 19, once someone has seen you naked, you’d prefer to never see him or her again. 

Now, 13 years later, here it was. An e-mail. Heart in mouth, I read it five times, then called in colleagues to look at the attached photo (which he’d sent in case I didn’t remember him – as if!). I then forwarded it to my girlfriends from university who would remember my confused nights of Russell musing and listening to the Cure. 

He was now a handsome software architect living in Kentucky, but I could tell from his e-mail he was the same person I’d liked back then: a confident, cheeky London boy. 

I replied immediately, sensing that games were unnecessary and wanting to learn more. Like why had he suddenly chosen to contact me? 

He’d had a ‘life is too short’ moment: his father had been diagnosed with cancer,
and it made him realise the importance of love, life and not being scared to take chances. We e-mailed back and forth until, at about 6pm, he suggested that he call me that evening. 

At 10pm my phone rang and, considering it had been 13 years, the conversation
was easy. He later confessed that if I’d turned into a snotty media type, he was
going to chat for ten minutes, and that would be that. But three hours of banter later,
I was hooked. 

When I got into work the next morning, an e-mail from him was waiting. He was hooked too.

Before we said our first word to each other, we were kissing. Like people do in the movies and you think that can’t really happen. Except it does 

This glorious first week of e-mails and three-hour nightly chats (and an inability to sleep or eat) culminated in me booking a flight the following weekend
to Louisville. 

I called my mum as I was driving to the airport. Far from being horrified that
her daughter was flying 1,000 miles to stay with a virtual stranger in a strange city, she exhaled, ‘Good for you. I’ve
been praying for something like this to happen to you.’

Unfortunately, gaining my mother’s seal of approval didn’t help with my now deafeningly loud beating heart and the stress-induced rash flashing across my cheeks. By the time I boarded the plane, I couldn’t breathe or stop twitching. I was scared, but it was a sense of excitement that was turning me into such a mess.

Landing in Louisville was the most important manoeuvre of my life. Nervously nearing the airport’s exit, I needed to speak to him more than ever. ‘I’m here and I need you to know I’m not always bright red and wobbly. I’m just nervous…’

‘It’s OK, I can see you. And I’m nervous too. I’m going to give you a big hug until we’ve both calmed down.’ 

And there he was. Gorgeous. Better than I remembered. This new revelation produced another physical side effect: a dry mouth. I wanted to be beautiful and witty, yet here I was, the most perfect man I’d ever seen was descending on me and my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.

I’d love to say being wrapped in his arms calmed me down. It didn’t. But when I glanced up into his eyes, I knew my impulsive behaviour had paid off, because before we said our first word to each other, we were kissing. Like people do in the movies and you think that can’t really happen. Except it does. 

To two ex-lovers who’d travelled the world just to find each other again. We kissed, looked at each other and kissed some more. 

Shocked, I think, at how much things can be so instant – and so right. He too had suffered a few relationships based on games and insecurity, and the instant fondness we felt for each other was wonderful, but coupled with the physical attraction, it was mind-blowing. 

If his first e-mail was the thunderbolt that shook me from my happy singledom, his kiss was the lightning that made me sure he was the One.

By the end of the night, we’d agreed to be exclusive and drunkenly changed our Facebook status to ‘in a relationship’. 

By the end of the weekend, he’d booked his flight to New York for five days’ time. 

By the time a month had passed, we’d said ‘I love you’ and meant it in a way neither of us had ever done before. 

After two months, he proposed – back on Kent University’s campus, in the bar where we first set eyes on each other. 

Yes, it was quick, and I hypocritically admit that if one of my friends had done this, I’d think them foolish. But sometimes you have to go with your gut feeling.

For the first time ever in a romantic relationship, I was my partner’s number-one priority. In the past, I’d played second fiddle to jobs or sisters or friends. It was wonderful to be a true significant other. A unit. 

As thunderbolts
go, I couldn’t ask for a more forceful one – and one that, whatever happens, will change my outlook on love
for ever

It’s now been nine months and I appreciate him more each day. I learn something new every time we talk that makes me 100 per cent sure I will never be single again. 

As Russell wrote in an e-mail last night, ‘I’ve always known you were the one for me, Sarah. I knew it from the first time we met 13 years ago. After I sent the first e-mail in May… I just knew… I just knew you would be mine.’

Our wedding will take place this spring, a year after we reunited, in the Cotswolds. I shall wear a Marchesa dress and Christian Louboutins, and he’ll wear a cream cord suit that I adore him in. But I’d marry him in New York City Hall tomorrow in my gym clothes if our mums wouldn’t kill us. 

This is not about a wedding. It’s about a marriage.

I still can’t sleep. My heart beats so forcefully I think I might collapse every time his name pops up in my inbox and I get funny looks on the subway every morning. I mean, who deserves to look this smiley at 8am in a stuffy train carriage going to work?

We’re both making changes for this to happen, splitting our time between New York and Kentucky. The greatest thing in all of this is that he feels the same way as I do: adored, a little bit mad and scared witless that something out of our control will stop us growing old together.

As thunderbolts go, I couldn’t ask for a more forceful one – and one that, whatever happens, will change my outlook on love for ever. 

People had said to me, ‘When you know, you know,’ and now I know what they were talking about. And I am convinced that my year of being single helped me appreciate true love and gave me the strength to be myself. 

My good fortune should be a lesson to even the most cynical single girl – thunderbolts do exist. Life is hard. But out of the blue, wonderful things can happen. A totally unpredictable person can show up and turn your life around. Never lose hope.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/you/article-1135222/Flames-reunited-How-New-York-singleton-rediscovered-true-romance.html#ixzz0vRgeB9El