going at a turtle's pace

i just finished an amazing book called "straight up and dirty" and despite the racy title, it was spectacular. a story about myself as told through another stephanie, stephanie klein. our stories are similar, mine sans the marriage and pregnancy. she is married to a doctor and at one point finds herself going through his email account. right down to the moment she knew there was someone else, i felt as though i was living my relationship with art all over again.
i remember the day like it was yesterday. he was at work, i was home from school early. i decided to clean and i was going through "the drawer" where he kept his personal things. personal things included a picture of michele, his ex girlfriend. and i'm not sure what possessed me to look at it every so often, but i found that i would look at her and wonder who she was. he had asked her to marry him one night while he was drunk and she told him yes. the next day, she woke up and told him no. i'm not sure why she walked away but her pushing him away, pushed him to me. i should have known right there he was no good. that day after i'd taken a look at michele again i found the phone records. and there, clear as day, was her number over and over again. weekends i was gone, nights we'd gone out together, Christmas day after i left his parents house, new years eve as i was outside calling my family...he was talking to her. don't ask how i knew it was her number, i just did and it was sprinkled throughout his call log, well more like plastered. her number was everywhere, i felt like i was the other woman. it was done, i knew he'd cheated. i left that day for my parents; i cried myself to sleep that night and many nights that followed. i was, in fact, living with him, playing house. we'd talked of marriage and what we'd name our children. my dream was shattered. he called soon after offering marriage, as if that would help. i went back to him only a few weeks later wanting the comfort i'd had, but it was gone. i'd always question him, want to look at his phone records, make him feel bad for what he'd done and punish him for the grief he'd caused.
it makes me mad now, not because of what he did or who he was but because of who i wasn't. i wasn't strong enough to walk away from him because i didn't think there was better. i was weak, i was tolerant and i made excuses. Stephanie Klein's story is similar to the point of scary.
but here's the thing: my past few relationships have been nothing but lessons to learn from.
i am currently dating a man (i cannot call him a boy because he is not) who is so "me" it is terrifying. and EVERYONE has warned against rushing into it, but i couldn't do it any other way, not now. i want to know more about him but i'm wary of letting him know too much of me. i am cautious and guarded, more than i have ever been before. he knows my past, he understands that i'm damaged slightly from a string of broken relationships and doesn't mind waiting for me to open up. i look forward to his emails and hearing his voice and spending time with him. if taking it slow is going at turtles pace, we would be almost at a standstill. but he doesn't mind and neither do i.
"good things come to those who wait"