further thoughts

Last Saturday, I was out in the yard raking leaves, and thinking. Well, to be accurate, I was fuming. Over the whole Christmas Eve visit, how he'd said that he was, in his head, 18 and running away. Like we were still in high school. Fuming. And I was THIS close to texting him those most dreaded words, words no guy likes to hear: we need to talk.

But, I was trying to be patient, give him, and myself, space, time to think, so I just kept working and thinking, trying instead to find the answer within my own self. And then, it hit me: I'd been feeling, acting, and behaving, overall, like I was 17! Maybe not the SAME 17 as I'd been back then, but, still, there was no question. And if I was behaving as though I was back in high school, who was I to judge him for reacting to that?

Oh.

Not to mention, my pet theory on divorce, which I use often to excuse silly behavior, for myself as well: whatever age you were when you were last single, dating, that's generally the age you revert to when you start to date again. You forget that 10, 15, or 22 years have passed, and you tend to look for someone that age, and behave roughly that age as well. That's normal, and it takes a while to remember how old you actually are. I'd just forgotten to apply that to him.

So, I felt better. I wasn't mad anymore. He might be 18 right now, but, he'd get past that, in time, and start to see me, as I am, now. And when he did, then we could find out if we actually like each other, the people we are now, or if all we have is the past.

And I'm okay with that.

Myself, I'd been back in 2002, at age 34, when he loved me (again) and wanted to run away with me, not run from me. Back then, he was that man, the right man. But of course, if he'd left his wife and family then, he wouldn't have been. Neither of us, least of all him, could have lived with the man he would have become.

That's what led to that conversation, all those years ago. Him saying he didn't know what to do, he couldn't leave his wife, it wouldn't be right, but, what if he never saw me again? And me, asking him, did he really believe he'd never see me again? No, he said, but, "I don't want to be 45 before we can start our lives together." Back then, I felt that we had time, plenty of time. Besides, 45 isn't old. Not old at all.