2010 August 09 | Suddenly *Not So* Single Journey

Archive for August 9th, 2010

Sometimes it’s best that stuff never happened…

Monday, August 9th, 2010

I’ve rushed out to the garage to write after hastily collecting my laptop. I need air. And I’m not sure the garage air is going to be fresh enough. It’ll have to do.

Moments ago I finished reading the stuff that never happened, by Maddie Dawson, I almost couldn’t breathe. It was the weight of it, the understanding of it all. It was seeing in the main character, Annabelle, a kindred soul with stories so similar and yet so different.

My first marriage never should have been. At the same time, I wouldn’t have changed the existence of my kids for anything. And to alter the marriage would have done just that.

In my case, maybe it’s best that some things never happened. Maybe it’s best that I let the old boyfriend leave. He was the one guy from high school that I never could get over. And when he and his parents finished building the house and sold it to move three thousand miles across the country, back to California, he asked me to go.

I was already engaged then. I was already miserably unhappy. I was playing that game, lying to myself, imagining a magical moment when the planets would align and our relationship would fall miraculously into place and become what it should be. I used to tell myself that it would be different when we were married, or when we had our own place, or once we had kids. Sometimes, I realize now, some relationships aren’t meant to be no matter how hard you work at it. Sometimes you simply lose yourself.

Like Annabelle, I found myself in the not so unique position of loving more than one man. I loved the fiance for the life I imagined we could have. I loved the fun and the jokes. I loved that we DID things. I loved that we would never be bored. All of that comes with a price. I know that now.

And then there was the high school boyfriend. He was blond haired, blue eyed, tall and handsome. He was quiet and controlled. Every gesture, every touch, every talk moved me more than I could ever imagine. He was intense to the nth degree. Yet because of his stand-offish nature, his way of pushing me away, his inconsistencies…I was reluctant to drop my life back home and move away with him.

I’d be giving up my net. I’d be giving up security. I’d be dependent upon him for more than I ever wanted to depend on anyone for. And I couldn’t do it. I had watched my mother after the separation with my father. I had seen her inability to complete tasks that I find commonplace, not a reflection on her as much as it was the time period. She didn’t know how to gas up a car or check the oil or fill the wiper fluid. These things we learned together. She made me the independent woman I am today.

There were times over the years that we reached out to each other. The old boyfriend helped me feel loved and wanted again after I lost my first child. We spoke on the phone for hours and hours for weeks on end. There were other times, too, through the years.

Only now…not at all.

Maybe it’s not only best that some stuff never happened, maybe it’s also best that I did what I did. Maybe all of that prepared me for the life I was supposed to have. Maybe it was all meant to lead me to the stuff that has to happen to get get me where I am now.

Now I’m in a relationship with someone who is the best of both worlds, the best of all the men I’ve ever loved. We have a frightening level of honesty. We can talk about anything. He has a strong quiet way about him, an intensity that I find intoxicating. And we dream big and work hard to make our dreams come true.

The novel speaks to the different kinds of love. And I am blessed to have experienced so many of them first hand. Just as I am now blessed to have the love I have now, the love that will stand the test of time, endure through trials and tribulations, and still be passionate, affectionate, and grow.

As a member of the From Left to Write Book Club, I received my copy of the novel that inspired this post for free.