Wednesday
May312006
Serendipity
ser·en·dip·i·ty ( P ) Pronunciation Key (srn-dp-t)
n. pl. ser·en·dip·i·ties
1. The faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident.
2.The fact or occurrence of such discoveries.
3. An instance of making such a discovery.
When I was 22 I met you. And it was magic. We simmered in the gloriously spicy stew of the first hello, first conversation, first kiss... I liked you. You liked me. So much so you immediately said goodbye to the generic blonde you were dating.
But I was tangled up in a debilitating relationship with Older Married Guy. His sea weed fingers tightly wrapped around my legs, pulling me below the suface.. Each time I managed to kick free, the weed multiplied, snaked around my body once again, slithered through my fingers, whispered sweet nothings into my hair... then yanked me beneath.. And so I let you go.
Nine months later I thought that, like Houdini, I had unlocked myself from the chains, slashed my way out of the bag and frantically wiggled toward light, toward the surface.. We saw each other again but you had returned to the generic blonde.
That didn't matter to me.. After pulling out all the stops, you were mine. But the fickle 23 year old inside let you go again. If you liked me so easily you obviously weren't that valuable, right? I longed for a challenge. And so I tossed you back. I was young, confused, needed to sample what life offered me in the way of male companionship. You were just so crazy about me. And so nice. Nice. A death sentence for a young man hoping to land the girl of his dreams. I thought it just couldn't be that easy.. I required passion, drama. To know someone cared about me, I needed them to yell at me, not stare at me with puppy dog eyes.
So once again, like a beautiful fish, I threw you back into the sea, choosing instead to get involved in a violent relationship that involved emergency phone calls and embarrassing public altercations. But you know this. Sometimes I would call you, crying about this latest fight, that latest humiliation...and you would patiently listen and offer advice. Because you are that kind of man.
Then, after years of heartache, wondering what was wrong with me.. like a shot to the heart I realized. I understood that I was repeating my dysfunctional familial relationships with my boyfriends. The shouting, the degrading... That's what I was used to. It felt normal. And unless I changed something, I would repeat the pattern with my children. Creating an environment where yelling replaces talking, silence replaces laughter, fear replaces contentment.
I left him then. I came looking for you. You, who loved my perfect imperfections. But of course it was too late. You were with Her. And my heart was broken. I couldn't bare it that I had so horribly misunderstood the meaning of love and companionship.
I saw you with Her that hot, summer day and although it was painful, I stayed and anesthetized the hurt with liquor.. I watched Her. I even spoke with Her briefly. I needed to know what She was like. What it was that drew you to Her? But I knew within moments of speaking to Her that She wasn't for you. I cried. I deliberated. Should I tell him I love him? That She isn't right for him? I wrote you letters but never sent them. Left you voicemails and erased them. I knew I had lost my chance.
And we moved on.. You continued your life with Her.. I dated others. We ran into each other once on a ski slope. You were polite, distant. I was crushed. I cried. But it was meant to be.
Eventually I found the man of my dreams and let my past dissolve like fog when a brilliant sun shines through.. Unbeknownst to either of us we each married someone else only hours apart. What are the odds? You in one Utah canyon, me, a few miles away, in another.
We embarked on our married lives, each of us unaware of what the other was up to.. And then this past Sunday I was struck with thoughts of you. I wonder what he's up to? I wonder if he's married? Maybe he has kids now... So I employed that old stalker stand-by and Googled you.
All the time, there you were...living right inside my monitor. Your phone number, your work address. So I called you.
"I can't believe you just called me." You said.
"Why?"
"I just found out my wife has been cheating on me. She's with him right now."
We talked. Marveled at the serendipitous nature our lives have taken. Separating and joining us when fate sees fit. You explained your behavior on the ski slope...It rocked you to see me, only days before you planned to ask Her to marry you. You couldn't talk to me, were afraid of being drawn back toward me. You couldn't believe after years of not seeing me you ran into me just days before becoming engaged.
Serendipity. Out of the blue sky, I am struck by thoughts of you and call you on the very day your marriage crumbles.. when you most need a friend. Serendipity. It is my turn. Now I can pay you back for being such a solid friend all those years ago by being a strong support now. You will be okay. I know this.
1. The faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident.
2.The fact or occurrence of such discoveries.
3. An instance of making such a discovery.
When I was 22 I met you. And it was magic. We simmered in the gloriously spicy stew of the first hello, first conversation, first kiss... I liked you. You liked me. So much so you immediately said goodbye to the generic blonde you were dating.
But I was tangled up in a debilitating relationship with Older Married Guy. His sea weed fingers tightly wrapped around my legs, pulling me below the suface.. Each time I managed to kick free, the weed multiplied, snaked around my body once again, slithered through my fingers, whispered sweet nothings into my hair... then yanked me beneath.. And so I let you go.
Nine months later I thought that, like Houdini, I had unlocked myself from the chains, slashed my way out of the bag and frantically wiggled toward light, toward the surface.. We saw each other again but you had returned to the generic blonde.
That didn't matter to me.. After pulling out all the stops, you were mine. But the fickle 23 year old inside let you go again. If you liked me so easily you obviously weren't that valuable, right? I longed for a challenge. And so I tossed you back. I was young, confused, needed to sample what life offered me in the way of male companionship. You were just so crazy about me. And so nice. Nice. A death sentence for a young man hoping to land the girl of his dreams. I thought it just couldn't be that easy.. I required passion, drama. To know someone cared about me, I needed them to yell at me, not stare at me with puppy dog eyes.
So once again, like a beautiful fish, I threw you back into the sea, choosing instead to get involved in a violent relationship that involved emergency phone calls and embarrassing public altercations. But you know this. Sometimes I would call you, crying about this latest fight, that latest humiliation...and you would patiently listen and offer advice. Because you are that kind of man.
Then, after years of heartache, wondering what was wrong with me.. like a shot to the heart I realized. I understood that I was repeating my dysfunctional familial relationships with my boyfriends. The shouting, the degrading... That's what I was used to. It felt normal. And unless I changed something, I would repeat the pattern with my children. Creating an environment where yelling replaces talking, silence replaces laughter, fear replaces contentment.
I left him then. I came looking for you. You, who loved my perfect imperfections. But of course it was too late. You were with Her. And my heart was broken. I couldn't bare it that I had so horribly misunderstood the meaning of love and companionship.
I saw you with Her that hot, summer day and although it was painful, I stayed and anesthetized the hurt with liquor.. I watched Her. I even spoke with Her briefly. I needed to know what She was like. What it was that drew you to Her? But I knew within moments of speaking to Her that She wasn't for you. I cried. I deliberated. Should I tell him I love him? That She isn't right for him? I wrote you letters but never sent them. Left you voicemails and erased them. I knew I had lost my chance.
And we moved on.. You continued your life with Her.. I dated others. We ran into each other once on a ski slope. You were polite, distant. I was crushed. I cried. But it was meant to be.
Eventually I found the man of my dreams and let my past dissolve like fog when a brilliant sun shines through.. Unbeknownst to either of us we each married someone else only hours apart. What are the odds? You in one Utah canyon, me, a few miles away, in another.
We embarked on our married lives, each of us unaware of what the other was up to.. And then this past Sunday I was struck with thoughts of you. I wonder what he's up to? I wonder if he's married? Maybe he has kids now... So I employed that old stalker stand-by and Googled you.
All the time, there you were...living right inside my monitor. Your phone number, your work address. So I called you.
"I can't believe you just called me." You said.
"Why?"
"I just found out my wife has been cheating on me. She's with him right now."
We talked. Marveled at the serendipitous nature our lives have taken. Separating and joining us when fate sees fit. You explained your behavior on the ski slope...It rocked you to see me, only days before you planned to ask Her to marry you. You couldn't talk to me, were afraid of being drawn back toward me. You couldn't believe after years of not seeing me you ran into me just days before becoming engaged.
Serendipity. Out of the blue sky, I am struck by thoughts of you and call you on the very day your marriage crumbles.. when you most need a friend. Serendipity. It is my turn. Now I can pay you back for being such a solid friend all those years ago by being a strong support now. You will be okay. I know this.
Looking Back
Reader Comments (19)
"So once again, like a beautiful fish, I threw you back into the sea, choosing instead to get involved in a violent relationship that involved emergency phone calls and embarrassing public altercations. But you know this. Sometimes I would call you, crying about this latest fight, that latest humiliation...and you would patiently listen and offer advice. Because you are that kind of man.
Then, after years of heartache, wondering what was wrong with me.. like a shot to the heart I realized. I understood that I was repeating my dysfunctional familial relationships with my boyfriends. The shouting, the degrading... That's what I was used to. It felt normal. And unless I changed something, I would repeat the pattern with my children. Creating an environment where yelling replaces talking, silence replaces laughter, fear replaces contentment."
YES!!!
This is what needs to be worked on.
You know this.
Congratulations and wonderfully written.
BTW: I was always that fish guy, too. That has happened sooo much to me. Fuck! At least I have a better understanding even if it still ain't right.
You kill me.
Why would she leave someone she calls "the man of her dreams"?
I think NCTRNL you're reading too much into this than it really is.
I'm sure the Serge loves you more for being a good friend to those who so painfully need one.
It took some maturing & improving self-esteem to finally tire of that and appreciate being treated well and being loved well.
Maybe there is no such thing as 'till death do us part.' Maybe love is a fleeting and beautiful experience just like the birth of a star or the evanescent flavor burst of fresh bubble yum gum.
bubble yum rules.
Woah. Freaky.
She's had some rocky times, and her husband's not a bad guy. She's halfway across the country from me now. Her perfume still turns my head when someone walks by wearing it.
But all is good. Here was my sign: I went to her wedding in '92, where her Mom (after a few cocktails) said to me, "I always thought it was going to be you!" in front of my within-weeks to be wife, who replied "Funny! So did he!" (To this day, I'm proud of that!)
You gave words to what she never said, but what I came to feel. It HAS dissolved in the fog, and as Mama put it, is all about what I "had," not what I have.