Ten Years.. Or... The Annual Celebration of My Freedom
It's my anniversary. Ten years ago today was my wedding day. Or rather... it was supposed to be my wedding day.
About five months before the planned date we had put a hold on the planning since G. was having some massive cold feet. And then I learned a couple weeks later of my fiance's infidelitites, which really put an end to it.
And yet, that wasn't the end. I didn't talk to him for a couple of months, but, before I knew it, we were seeing each other again. But he was also still seeing her. I battled for his affections for about six months before I finally realized that things were never going to be the same again.
The next year I moved across the state and he eventually moved to Chicago. We would still run into each other at gatherings with his sister (my best friend, Sue). He would call me on occasion, but I would always make some sarcastic remark about how, perhaps, he should be calling his girlfriend instead of his ex-fiancee.
W. finished school and moved to Chicago with him, and the phone calls stopped. I learned later from Sue that they were engaged. I tried to make plans to go out and get really drunk on their wedding night, but plans fell through and instead I stayed home feeling sorry for myself.
They have since moved back to Michigan. And two years ago I got the news that they had a baby. A little girl.
The most recent update I got on them was at Thanksgiving. And it helped me to know that I am better off.
But it still hurts some. Not that I don't have him, because it is abundantly clear to me that things were not supposed to work out with him. But because all the things I wanted and he wasn't ready for 10 years ago, he now has, but I still don't. And I'm at a point where I wonder if I'm ever going to have them.
And because he was my first true love. The first of three truly life-defining relationships I've had, and I wonder if I've used up my allotment. I sure hope not, as even the most recent of those relationships is so obviously not going to happen.
The moral of the story? There isn't one. I'm not sad that I didn't marry G. I am sad that my life hasn't gone as I would have liked it to, but that isn't his fault. It's not anyone's fault. I think I just needed to commemorate the day in some way. I wonder if G. even remembers its significance...
About five months before the planned date we had put a hold on the planning since G. was having some massive cold feet. And then I learned a couple weeks later of my fiance's infidelitites, which really put an end to it.
And yet, that wasn't the end. I didn't talk to him for a couple of months, but, before I knew it, we were seeing each other again. But he was also still seeing her. I battled for his affections for about six months before I finally realized that things were never going to be the same again.
The next year I moved across the state and he eventually moved to Chicago. We would still run into each other at gatherings with his sister (my best friend, Sue). He would call me on occasion, but I would always make some sarcastic remark about how, perhaps, he should be calling his girlfriend instead of his ex-fiancee.
W. finished school and moved to Chicago with him, and the phone calls stopped. I learned later from Sue that they were engaged. I tried to make plans to go out and get really drunk on their wedding night, but plans fell through and instead I stayed home feeling sorry for myself.
They have since moved back to Michigan. And two years ago I got the news that they had a baby. A little girl.
The most recent update I got on them was at Thanksgiving. And it helped me to know that I am better off.
But it still hurts some. Not that I don't have him, because it is abundantly clear to me that things were not supposed to work out with him. But because all the things I wanted and he wasn't ready for 10 years ago, he now has, but I still don't. And I'm at a point where I wonder if I'm ever going to have them.
And because he was my first true love. The first of three truly life-defining relationships I've had, and I wonder if I've used up my allotment. I sure hope not, as even the most recent of those relationships is so obviously not going to happen.
The moral of the story? There isn't one. I'm not sad that I didn't marry G. I am sad that my life hasn't gone as I would have liked it to, but that isn't his fault. It's not anyone's fault. I think I just needed to commemorate the day in some way. I wonder if G. even remembers its significance...
Labels: Strolling Down Memory Lane, The Pursuit of Happiness
posted by Charlie at 12:25 PM
1 Comments:
I clicked on you from Pig b/c you mentioned my John Deere comment. I had no idea I'd find one of the most poignant blog postings I've ever read. I am struck with a French phrase I love as a response... "plus ca change, plus c'est la m'eme chose"... the more things change, the more they stay the same. Beautiful posting. And Happy Anniversary, to your freedom.
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