My Pre-Midlife Crisis

IV Cont'd: I Pass on a "Boring" Life

There is a reason I'm not Mrs. Tamara Boring today. That reason happens to be my husband. Did I make the right choice? Only God knows the real answer.

Joe and I continued to see each other on the weekends, with one of us driving to the other's place. When he came down to see me, I'd meet him at the door with music playing and candles lit, and he'd scoop me up into his arms and we'd dance in the livingroom and pretend we were really good. I'd come up to his place on occasion and stay Saturday nights in a hotel and sing in his church on Sunday morning, have lunch, and ride with him as he drove Madison back to her mom's house. And I'd sit on the sofa with him as he'd cry that it would be two weeks before he's see his daughter again. We'd pray about our relationship, and hope for the best.

I'd drive home, and think about Michael. I'd pray to God to make the thoughts go away.

One fateful day I drove about halfway to meet Joe and Madison for dinner out. Afterwards, we went show shopping for Madison at a Payless near the restaurant. As we were parting ways that night, and Madison was sitting in the truck watching for us to kiss goodnight, I kissed Joe and said those fateful 3 words. And my universe tumbled. "I love you, Joe." He looked slightly surprised. He did not say it back. He might have said, "Wow" or "Thanks" or something else lame like that. I was mortified. I got into my car with a smile on, but I cried all the way home. In a later phone conversation I discovered one possible reason for his reaction.

"Tamara, do you think you will ever get back together with Michael?"
"No, why?"
"Because you still love him."
I would have said I didn't, but I had sworn off lying figuring God would surely strike me dead for lying to a preacher.
"He doesn't want me. He made it clear."
"But you need to see him again. You need to find out. You can't keep hanging on to him, or you'll never have a healthy future."

Joe was right. I had talked about Michael a lot. He had taken up the last year of my life, and despite all of my online dating adventures, I had never gotten over him. There were many occasions where I'd return home from a date, and cry on the bed until I fell asleep. I felt I was somehow betraying Michael, even though he had already moved on and had experienced at least one other new intimate adventure of his own. I missed Michael madly. Throughout the summer, I called Michael every now and then to tell him I missed him and loved him, and beg and plead with him to let us see each other. He would never agree to it. He had broken up with me in March, and it was now late early fall. Why couldn't I just move on?

Strange as it was, the closer I drew to Joe, the more I missed Michael. Somehow, I felt like my life was about to end as sure as it was about to begin.

Then one day I called Michael yet again. He was cheerful that day, and said the new issue of Esquire had arrived. We had shared this silly tradition of him reading a column to me each month about what men need to know about women (written by a female guest contributor each month). He'd read them to me over the phone, and then I'd share my perspective as to whether they were right or wrong. This month's Esquire had arrived and he cheerfully asked if I wanted him to read it to me. "Sure!", I happily responded. "OK, I'll go get it", he replied. As he did, my heart sank. Michael was my past - Joe was my future. I had to stop this nonsense. When he got back on the phone I stopped him. I told him that I shouldn't have called, and that we shouldn't do this anymore. I told him I was seeing someone seriously. After an incredibly long silence, Michael tearfully commented that he hoped he was nice and that he must be very special. I told him that he had a daughter who looked like me. "Lucky kid", Michael replied. I started to cry. I'd always wanted a family, and Michael didn't. I was a wreck.

I didn't see Joe for a while. I had a writing deadline I was trying to meet. But I couldn't write. The words didn't come, and my thoughts were scattered.

I called Michael and explained once again that I had to see him. October 22nd. I said I'd bring my laptop and sleep on the sofa. I told him I'd stay out of his way. I said that if it didn't work out, I'd go away for good. I just had to know in order to get on with my life. Finally, Michael said OK. And my heart stopped.

Though my weekend with Michael was less than stellar, I didn't call Joe again, and he never called me. We never even said goodbye to each other. We never really broke up. Somehow, we just knew. I called him after the new year, after Michael couldn't seem to get himself together to figure out if he wanted to be with me - the same old routine all over again. Joe was dating an elementary school teacher at Madison's school. Wow. He had moved on. He didn't ask about Michael - the don't ask, don't tell policy. I figured he knew. He probably even knew that I was calling because the holidays didn't work out very well at all for Michael and I. It was a tense but pleasant conversation that wasn't at all like the many we'd had before. Clearly life and love had moved on.

I don't know what happened to Joe. But, I think I missed Madison the most. At least she could say "I love you" back. And she reminded me how much I want to be a mom. For that, I am eternally grateful.

posted by No Longer In Crisis @ 7/21/2005 04:10:00 PM