Sweet Poetry

Lines: it has always been my belief that every man has lines. Set things he keeps that he can say in case of an emotional emergency, that requires little thought from him, yet sounds good enough to appease even the most savvy of partners. Though it's effectiveness has waned since it is used widely, I believe "It's not you, it's me" is among those lines, to illustrate my meaning. But sometimes you meet someone whose gallantry with the language makes you question whether his words not from the back of his mind in some emergency file, but from the heart.

What's making me talk about this is because I feel as though I have just witnessed one of those exchanges. To be exact, I believe I have been on the receiving end of one. The man who previously pre-occupied my mind and my heart disappeared unceremoniously more than a month ago. I believe I mentioned that in this very blog. Much to my chagrin, while enjoying my Valentine's day date with my new boyfriend, I received a text message from the man. He expressed a hope that I was having a good day, and went on to say we should get together sometime. Even though he really didn't deserve it, I knew it would be only right to let him know what has changed in the relatively short time since we last spoke.

So, last night, I called him or should I say I attempted to call him, because I was not entirely convinced that I would reach him, as it is very rare. But lo and behold on the second ring his voice comes through loud and clear. He seemed genuinely happy to hear my voice, he asked me how I had been and urged me to tell him what I've been up to. I delved into it hesitantly, not sure how to tell this man who I was once falling for that someone had taken that place.

"Well, I've met someone," I began. He immediately probed for more. "Who is he? Where is he from? What does he do? How did you meet?" And to my own surprise, his voice, a voice I know as well as a sailor knows the sea breeze, was... happy. Not an ounce of the sadness or the anger that I feared.

He offered me an explanation unbidden. "You know," he said, "I'm really happy about this. You're a good woman, and you deserve to have someone that can take care of you like you should be taken care of." Despite myself, I smiled at this. We continued on with the conversation, and feeling the spirit of the moment, I felt uninhibited in my ability to tell him about my new found happiness. He responded enthusiastically.

But, not one to leave such things unsaid, I did express my disappointment at the fact that he hadn't attempted until Valentine's Day to contact me, allowing a full month and more to pass since we last spoke. He explained in his naturally morose way that he fears developing relationships with people because in his own experience they somehow always leave him: his brother to the armed forces, his best friends to Seattle and Kansas, even his parents who left him to fend for himself in the pursuit of higher education, offering no support or guidance.

"Well," I offered, "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere." I said this before I could even stop myself, and found myself shocked at the fact that it was true. I went on to explain my theory that people pass into one another's lives for a reason, and that, perhaps, I had passed into his to offer him that type of stability which he lacks. "Maybe," he said, "you're in my life to give me a little faith in relationships." Relationships being something he ultimately says he doesn't believe in at all.

And then he said to me something unbelievable. This thing that has me contemplating whether sometimes nice things are said unrehearsed. He said "I look at you sometimes and wish that I could just hold you in my arms and protect you from the world. But I know that I can't offer you that. So the best thing is for me to let someone else hold you who can do that for you. What I want is your happiness, even if it is not with me, and I am SO happy for you."

I won't lie to you, I cried. They were not tears of sadness, but more a wistfulness for the alternate time, the other life in which I'm sure that we are happy together. It's clear to me, though, that at this time in our lives he is absolutely right.

I can only hope that this new man in my life can evoke such an emotion in me, and I in him.

Nonetheless, I will cherish that moment of sweet natural poetry, offered from the most unexpected sources, the rest of my life.

Making Plans

I used to be the type of person who only made plans for myself. And I don' t mean vague "maybe I can do this" plans, I'm talking real concrete plans. My last vacation was last minute. I usually would have events only planned until 3 weeks ahead. Why? Because a few weeks ahead was all I could bear to think about, all I wanted to worry about.

I never ventured into making plans with anyone except my closest friends. And even then I probably drove them nuts verifying everything, because for me it was a forgone conclusion that most plans fall through. And, to be honest, a lot of them did.

I used to have plans, a long time ago. Future plans. Wedding plans. Kids plans (we even picked out names in order from 1st to 3rd born). Then when the "we" became just "me" again, more than the hurt and the pain of that loss, I felt the pain of losing all those plans as well. Saying goodbye to all those dreams and plans we'd built together was tough. I thought to myself, that making those plans was probably stupid, in fact I chided myself for making them.

But now I'm part of a "we" again. And I'm older (and thank God, so is he). And I'm tentatively making plans. Not too far out. But each time a little farther than I would have ventured to go before. Is that nuts? Am I setting myself up for a fall. Or is it the natural tendency of people when everything is going well to make plans based on the assumption that life preserves it's current goodness?

The great thing is he encourages me, he tells me that I am allowed to make plans. And having his permission bolsters a feeling in me that says that he too believes that things will continue and those plans are ok.

To be honest, it feels nice to have plans. It feels nice to have things to look forward to next month or the month after that. I know I can't make the same mistakes I did before. I'll take everything as it comes, rather than trying to plan out my life. But I can't really express how good it feels allowing myself to make plans.