Have you ever held onto a Truth so absolutely that it becomes the very fabric by which you live your life?
Maybe you were young when it happened and you met this guy who you thought the sun revolved around. You really liked this guy, so much so that you would write letters to him and he to you. Sweet, rambling epithets of friendship and devotion.
But maybe he lived in another city from you so you decide to move there where you can be together. You imagine a life for you and this guy. A house, kids, a cat. No, a dog.
He might even be in a rock band and you think it might be cool to go on tour with them, but maybe not since someone needs to stay home to take care of the dog. And kids.
So you move all the way to Hollywood where you work for a newspaper doing important things but making little money. This guy, the one you moved for, he starts to pull away and you wonder why.
Then one night you agree to meet him in a bar and he sits across from you wearing that shirt you love on him, with sunglasses in the pocket. They’re your sunglasses. The ones he took from you that day while hiking and you thought looked cute on him so you let him have them. The same sunglasses that are forever memorialized in a press photo the band did before their album came out. You really wish you had your sunglasses, but this isn’t about the sunglasses, it’s about the guy sitting across from you.
He’s telling you he never cared about you. At all. You should get over him, he’s no good for you, he never loved you. Move on.
You think of all the letters, the sweet words, the move to be near him. Then you leave the bar and think the rat bastard broke your frikkin heart.
Then something strange happens. You go on with your life, even moving to England where you get married, pregnant, and divorced all without ever seeing Big Ben or most of London for that matter. You mostly saw the rim of a toilet because you had horrid morning sickness.
But it was worth it because you got a beautiful baby girl. Then, because you utterly failed in that relationship, you live your life with your baby girl, working hard, trying to get by.
One day you meet a nice guy.
He’s probably the kind of guy you should’ve dated to begin with and saved yourself the hassle of heartache, but you didn’t meet him until that point in your life so you take a chance that he’ll like you.
He does. A lot.
So maybe you marry this really great guy and a few years later you have a son with him.
Then one day it happens. You’re at a party and you’re telling someone about the guy who broke your heart. The rat bastard band dude who said he never loved you. You’re telling the story as if he ruined your life when all of a sudden you realize, he didn’t ruin it, he helped make it.
In an instant your world is spun around and shifted. What was foggy clears. That piece of bitter remorse you’ve held in your heart for too long evaporates.
And maybe you think to yourself, he gave me a gift, that guy who took my sunglasses. By breaking my heart I found the courage to travel to another country where I got my daughter. From her I learned to love unconditionally which in turn let me see my husband for what he is. A truly great guy who loves me in spite of, or perhaps because of, all my flaws.
Then one day you’re writing a blog for other’s entertainment but really what you’re doing is writing the oddest love letter. It’s not really about that guy, it’s about your husband. Because in a few days you’ll be celebrating your 16th wedding anniversary. Sometimes you can hardly believe it’s been 16 years and others, you’re just so damn happy your husband has put up with you for that long because you know you’re a tad high maintenance and perhaps a little kookoo. Just a little, mind you.
But in the end you’re over the moon crazy for your husband and love him a little more each day. If you’d met him any sooner than when you did, you wouldn’t have appreciated how awesome he was.
Perhaps someone should send a thank you note to the guy who stole those sunglasses all those years ago. Hey, they were Ray Bans and my favorite. I can’t let it go.
Sometimes people ask if I’d like to go back and change anything in my life. I would be afraid to do that. If I changed one thing, then maybe I wouldn’t be where I am right now. From where I’m sitting, this is a damn fine place to be.
Happy Anniversary, my love.
Ohmygosh! We were so young and freakishly cute.