Friday, January 18, 2008

"Where is the laughter we once shared…"-Nanci Griffith



It was the best of times.

It was the worst of times.

It was the evening with MyUnwife.


That's what last night was. How did you spend yours? C'mon, I'd rather talk about what you did! Something! Anything! Nothing..? Sometimes you guys are no help at all. Thanks, so much…


So we met up for dinner, MyUnwife and I. She needed some things printed, and I suggested that we eat first. It's really a safety precaution. Have you ever teased a hungry animal? Do you still have all your limbs? I didn't think so. We still have all fingers and toes attached; we ate first.


I showed up at the restaurant a little late. I didn't want to be any different than the Rob she knew. I wasn't that late though, only a minute or two. I think that surprised her. She's used to waiting 15-20 minutes while I circle the parkinglot, looking for a good excuse as to why I'm late.


Last night wasn't about excuses, or blame, it was just a dinner. Maybe that's why we both smiled at each other across the parking lot.


"I tried to be later, but the train wouldn't cooperate." I yelled over the distance. It was a lame joke, but she understood the effort.

"At least you tried." Se spoke softer, and we drew together.


We laughed. That was genuine. Any awkwardness that might have iced over in strong SoCal wind storm, melted away in the warmth of old comrades. Laughter set the mood for the rest of the evening. We laughed about TV shows and movies. We laughed about exchanging cooking tips. We laughed about each other, and shared single experiences from the past 5 months.


I think the waitress thought we were on a date. "That sounds funny," she interrupted, "If my hands weren't full I'd stay and listen." If you stayed to listen, you wouldn't have any hands, MyUnwife and I thought across the table. Still, the waitress said this after we'd started eating. She left with her fingers and toes. The important thing to both MyUnwife and I: she left.


Begone interloper!


She didn't deserve to hear the stories of furries, smokers penalties, and tennis shoe blood pumps. She hadn't spent 10 years learning the good the bad and the ugly. She had spent 15 minutes waiting to refresh our drinks. That counted for nothing more than a paltry tip.


This was the best conversation MyUnwife and I had shared in at least a year. I know what your asking, "rekindling the flame?" No. You're asking stupid questions again. That wasn't even an issue on the table. No, everything between us was in plain view. It was saucy, tangy and wonderful to taste. Everything before us were all the reasons we'd come together in the first place, but weren't asking for seconds. This was just two people sated by a good mealenjoying simple food and simple company.



Later we came back to my place, printed the stuff she needed, and she left. I gave her a hug and it was nice. It was awkward at first, because in the back of my head I'm thinking "am I asking too much?" but her embrace said, "no," and everything fell into place.


When she left, I felt mixed. I'd had fun with the woman who broke my heart. I'd like to say she could say the same thing (except the woman part. I'd probably take offense at that). I was sad that the evening was over, but I wasn't sad to be alone. I like me without her. It's not what I wanted, and dinner reminded me of that, but it is where we are. And where I am is a good place.


She looked good too. I didn't tell her that. Maybe I should have, but I didn't want to cross any lines. She looked happier and healthier than I'd seen her look in a long time. If that was her without me, than I couldn't be happier to be out of her life. And you know what? That isn't just another bitter Rob retort. "Love honor and cherish." that was part of the vow too. Part of "cherish" is the desire to see her happy, and she was happy. So was I.

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