May 21
Sunday, May 21, 2017, I was driving my pickup back from seeing the woman of my dreams. We had shared a very quick and very perfect 24 hours together. It was just us. Nothing else. And I think it surprised both of us by how good it was.
We didn't do anything special. We went out to eat. We went to the high school track and walked around it a few times, talking. We reminisced. We kissed. It felt completely natural and relaxed.
On May 27, 2017, she started pushing back. It was such a short time period between those two events. One must have caused the other. What looked like rejection and betrayal to me was something else, something I don't have room to go into here. Clearly, what happened hurt, but it's all gone now, washed under the bridge. I've decided to rename my feelings and change my perspective, which has been extremely helpful and healing.
So, whatever it was, it doesn't matter now. Life goes on and we have to, too. While my conscience is clear and my heart is clean on this matter, as I think loving someone is never a mistake, sometimes we choose the wrong person, and that's a mistake, though not the end of the world. But that wasn't the case here. She was the right person for me. The timing was wrong. I should have made her mine when I was a young man. It was impossible to bridge that distance so many years later. Still, it was a powerful, beautiful thing to love her even if the timing was wrong. It showed me what it would be like to love and be loved by the right person. It showed me what I was missing all those years. And it showed me what kind of a future I could have with the addition of just one good person in my life.
Will I ever see her again? I've lived long enough to see some strange things happen, but I won't get my hopes up. For me, it should probably be enough to have loved her when I did and how I did. She touched me and changed me. That gift will live on. That is her legacy.
I will forever memorialize the days we had together: one in April, one in May, and one in July that year. That was it. Added up, does it even equal three whole days? No. But those less-than-three days were like a balm to my heart — my very bruised and battered heart — a heart that wanted to quit so many times but somehow kept going. It found the woman of my dreams at the end of so much heartache. Somehow, I blew it.
If I could do it all over again, I'd be smarter. I'd love her just the same, but I'd take into account my own shitty situation, the crime scene of my heart. And, naturally, I'd take her situation into consideration. We just weren't ready. In the end, I agreed with her decision to end what we had begun. It was hard, but she is a smart woman and clearly had good intentions.
It's funny because there's a picture of the two of us she took from one of our days together. I look, well, for lack of a better word, "drunk." I was drunk on her. I was so in love. If I was drunk, then I'm still drunk. And the longest I've ever been drunk.
Do I want to see her again? That's a dumb question. Of course I do. She's my muse. I don't want to be hurt again, but pain is an inevitable part of life. Relationships are no different. I'd rather be hurt by her than any other woman. But I've learned what love should look like, and what we were doing was a desperate dance that tired both of us out when we really needed to direct our energy elsewhere. As I sit here today and write this, I can see how the last two years have done much to heal me, though it's often been a painful process. Things I never would have dealt with finally came to the surface. A surprising number of childhood wounds were left festering, and God firmly but gently revealed them and bandaged them. I feel more whole and content, calmer and more collected than at perhaps any time in my life. Am I done healing? Not by any means! But I think the biggest wounds have been tended to. For that, I am extremely grateful.
What I've seen is that love knows no distance. It knows no boundaries. It cares not about obstacles of any sort. My love for that girl was not perfect. I was not always patient. I was not always respectful of her wishes. But I've learned that I can change. And I have. With that overall change, the way I love has changed. It may be more guarded, but it is as strong as it ever was.
Do I deserve a girl like her? No. I never did. Nothing has changed. But I can love her from a distance. I can love her the rest of my days. It wasn't my choice to say goodbye. If I haven't stopped loving her yet, I never will. I will gladly carry her in my chest right to my grave. Even that is more than I deserve.
Would I be happier today if I had made that girl mine all those years ago? It's hard to say. I'd like to say yes, but happiness is a construct. Many people who are successful or rich or whatever aren't happy. Lots of people we think should be happy are not. No doubt in my mind, though, I would have had a better life with her. She's one of those people who lift others around her up, especially those she loves. And I would have loved the shit out of her. She would have felt special and treasured and protected.
Two years. A lot has happened. A lot to contemplate. I could spend the rest of my life ruminating on things that happened, but I'd rather not. I'll take the memories I want and discard the rest. It was messy and desperate at times. But I've come out the other end a different person, a person less likely to make the same mistakes. And, like everything else in life, I can choose what this means to me.
So, thank you, dear girl, for spending that time with me. I saw in you the woman I wanted to love the rest of my life. I wish I had seen it sooner, like all those years ago. I was getting there, you know, in my plodding way. I will always be grateful for you. I will always want to see you. I will always love you.
Thank you for those three days. Thank you for changing me forever.
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