Soul Mosaic

I was really sad that Ed had chosen to move on from our relationship. I kept wondering why he couldn’t have given me just more time. But…he wanted serious. I was terrified and just didn’t know WHAT I wanted. So, I guess I could understand. With reluctance, I returned to the dating service.

The real estate guy

Those walls

Not long after that trip, we met up another weekend. He knew that night in Boston that I didn’t respond well to his declaration of love for me. I had explained it simply as I just needed to go slowly.

We stood outside his apartment one evening. He looked at me with such kindness and said, “I want to help you take down your walls.”

In my mind, the answer was instantaneous. Oh hell no, I thought. I just got my life under control.

The struggle as I stood there? Before me stood the kindest …truest heart… and one that I knew had been hurt by others. I did NOT want to hurt him…I could walk away from others, but …he was different. Yet I couldn’t risk upsetting the stability that I had just obtained.

“Couldn’t we just keep it fun and light, no serious ties?”

We met again for dinner at that “family-style restaurant” where I again tried to explain why I didn’t want to get serious. He listened. He was very quiet.

That January, not long after that night, we met on a weekend morning in Torrington. At a diner…which was just across the street from the Burger King parking lot, the parking lot he met up with me the first time he came to Torrington.

Looking at me with what seemed a mixture of sadness yet acceptance, he told me he was setting me free. He could see that I didn’t want to get serious, and he understood. Then he wished me well and took his leave.

I sat there thinking…But…but…

Looking back on that time from now, I feel such pain in my heart. True pain. For the hurt he felt. For the place I was still in, full of fear, yet not wanting to be apart.

Sniffing bags in the garage

We stood together, hunched over the trunk of his car in the Boston parking garage, sniffing the aromas of various white bags.

Closing up the bags, I said to Ed, “You know. This looks bad, us standing here sniffing all these bags. Anyone watching us would think we had something more interesting than coffee here!”

We both laughed, and one of us commented that while freshly ground coffee smelled great, it was too bad it didn’t taste just as good when you brewed it.

Given that Christmas was only a few weeks off, the coffees were gifts for several of our friends. This was an era before local coffee shops, so it was a rare opportunity to find so many exotic and flavored beans in the stalls of Quincy Market.

The first weekend away

Ed had been up in Boston all that week and the next for a software training conference. Since he was already there in a hotel, he invited me to join him for a weekend in Boston. That was the first time I’d ever spent a weekend away in a hotel with someone I was dating. Yet again, I felt no worries. Just excited to spend time with him and explore Boston. Between shopping, museums, and restaurants, we were having a great time.

So, this is Torrington…

As he shared with me later, Ed’s “auspicious” introduction to my hometown was watching a fist fight in the Burger King parking lot while he waited for me to come by. I think that left him wondering just a bit what he was getting himself into. But again, he stayed.

I had invited him to come to Torrington for our second date, and rather than struggle with convoluted directions to a restaurant or my condo, I told him I’d meet him at that parking lot. It was right where the road from West Hartford came into town, and thus, the easiest way to manage things in the “pre-GPS” era.

Our first date at that “family-style restaurant” had actually gone…wonderfully. Beyond my wildest dreams. At least I thought so. We spent several hours at the restaurant, talking the whole time. Everything from our childhoods and jobs, to hobbies and life dreams. I shared my longings to be a writer and all my attempts to get that going. He spoke with excitement about all the exciting new computer technology he was getting exposed to, and all the unusual installations he visited to solve software issues. And this time, I was fascinated. Here was a computer person who could not only express what he loved about the digital world, but also explain intricate topics like he was telling a story.

It was just…easy, comfortable, safe. I couldn’t give you scientific evidence why. But my gut said so in spades. I’d never felt so in sync with another human before, like I did with him. So it was a no-brainer for me to invite him over when he asked about getting together again sometime. And we made that sometime, soon.

“So tell me about you”

The question was filled with genuine, kind curiosity.

“I want to know who you are.”

“I believe we have two lives. The life we learn with, and the life we live with after that.” — Iris, in the movie, “The Natural”

Read the ——- manual…

At 29, you could never accuse me of being wishy-washy or not willing to push the limits.

One sunny afternoon, I took a drive out into the backroads areas of Litchfield. I’d gotten to like that routine as a way to center and think. I had a new car and was trying to get as familiar with it as with my old one. I happened to notice that the fuel gauge hovered at “E.” On my old car, I knew from reading the manual that “E” meant there was about a gallon left and still a fair number of miles to spare. I wondered if this car did the same.

Now, your average person would have just pulled out the new car’s manual to check that, but hey, I just didn’t feel like stopping to read. Instead, with a streak of adventurous spirit, I decided to just do the “experimental” method and find out. Duh.

I ran out of gas. Out in the countryside of Litchfield. In an era of no cell phones. In a time when most gas stations were self-serve, and any kind of “rescue service” was hard to find. When I didn’t have AAA, and the nearest house was a half mile back down the road. So yes. I walked. Thankfully, someone was home, AND was even willing to make a call to a local station that still did repairs.

Suffice it to say that it was the most expensive gallon of gas I ever bought in my life when you added together the inflated cost of that gallon of gas and the service call fee. In any event, I learned that day, never question “E” again. “E” really did mean “empty,” not, “Hey, you better get to a gas station soon.” And next time, read the ——- manual.

But maybe the biggest lesson I needed to learn that day was the one I had been out driving around and thinking about – rules.

Pollywog revisited

So. In the months since being suicidal, I had managed to allow my friend to be a close emotional support. Something I never had before. And with her and her husband, I’d gotten beyond a major hurdle. But…what did that all mean? And did I even have the presence of mind then to begin to question things?

My friend observed where I was currently at: “You can’t keep getting sex from my husband and emotions from me. You need to unite the two in one person.”

As soon as she said that, I remember thinking, “Duh! How could I have been so stupid and so blind?”

The chapter in life never read aloud

We all, no doubt, have moments we are not proud of. Whether the transgressions were big or small, if they were in a book, they would be the chapters “never read aloud.”

But as many memoir writers have noted, to shy away from telling the truth is to defeat the purpose of writing. How do you learn? And if I am writing to heal and to share my story with readers, then I must be honest. How can I connect with anyone if I pretend to be above it all? If I were reading that kind of story, I’d spot it in a second and toss it in the trash.

A therapist, listening to my story a few years ago, said, “Did you expect to be perfect?”

Her frank calling out of my silliness in denying human frailties made me laugh and see how the only person I’d been fooling was myself. Of course, I had WANTED to be perfect…I had DEMANDED that from me. But then that had been demanded OF me my whole life. The truth was, I was just like everyone else — simply a human being. And…there is nothing wrong with being a human being. It just took me a lifetime to learn that.

Making the sausage

There’s an old saying about not watching the sausage being made because it is such a messy process. Best to just enjoy the result.

We had a similar rule in our house for when our young son washed the kitchen floor. He absolutely loved to do it. He’d play his music, sing, dance, and splash water everywhere. Yet at the end, it would all come out beautifully.

The trick was not to watch it happen. Just set him up with the mop and water, arrange all so no harm could come to him, and then go upstairs until he was done. At that point, we could both be happy and celebrate, because I’d have a clean floor, and he would feel great about his success. We both understood that there was a “messy middle part” that was best not to watch.

I feel the same about the journey of coming back from that despair and rebuilding my life. It was a long, weary, one-foot-in-front-of-the-other, trudging time. And it would get messy, something I would feel ashamed of for a long time. Something I would judge me harshly for, and refuse to look back at for decades.