Trying to be...
2003-09-10 - 8:08 a.m.
In life, I feel that not only may we be lucky enough to meet our personal "The One", but that we also meet several "A One" along the way. And while not grammatically proper, these "A One" people play significant roles in our relationship development. I have four such people --- those who definitely were not "The One" but certainly were "A One" for a phase of my life. Two I had *thought* would be "The One", but hindsight has taught me that was immaturity and a not fully formed self-identity talking, rather than that magical knowledge of them being "The One". The other two I knew from the start were not meant to be, but there was something there, something I knew I needed to pursue, experience, ride out, and then get over, before moving on to finding "The One"
So by now you all know about "The One"....he is wonderful. My best friend, my soul mate...the person I never tire of being with, who understands my mood without even asking, and with whom I am not afraid to share any inner thoughts, regardless of content.
But today, I think I'll start on the others....in chronological order:
A - my first "love"....I had just moved to New York, being a new graduate and finally having my first job in the music biz. I was trying to break ground as the new alterna-chick in a non-alternative setting (this was before the term "indie rock" existed). He worked in the mailroom, and was a metal dude, tiny -- my height of 5'5" give or take -- wore all black, tight black jeans, black t-shirts with no sleeves, and long, curly (out of control curly) red hair. His face was total Bon Jovi, defined cheekbones and chin, and a smil that could light up a room.
We were as different as different could be....but I persued him. In hindsight I realize it was the pursuit out of "I am young, new to a city, have never been in love....I'm going to find love RIGHT NOW" sort of thing. So after being there a week, I found his number in my bosses roladex and called him at home one night. Bold for a young 'in, wasn't I?
He was just coming out of a break up, but I didn't see that as a reason to stop myself. At first, I nudged us along...invited myself out to his apartment, made a date, etc. But it worked. He fell in love with me, I fell in love with him, and for a year and a half we were us. It was a secret at work, only 1 person knew (and in an office of a dozen, that is pretty good secret-keeping, don't you think?).
I compromised a lot with A. I was so afraid to lose him that I kept a lot inside. I hated his mother...she was intrusive and annoying. I hated his friends, they were trashy and uneducated. I hated that he never wore sleeves. Bringing him to my high school reunion, I was both smug ("look at my cute boyfriend!") and embarrassed ("um, do you think you could wear sleeves?"). My parents joked that if we did get married, his tux would have to be altered to appease his "unique" style.
He decided to move to Europe to pursue his music career. He made this decision without me, it was done and final. I was devastated, and before he even left, I planned my first visit. He said "I'm not sure if I"ll have time for you to visit". Um, hello? Perhaps that was a pretty clear signal? Moving across the world and no time for a visit? But still we did the "we'll try to make this work" nonsense.
He was gone two weeks when I met T (see story below). My magnatism to T was undeniable, to EVERYONE who saw the two of us....and I fought it for about 2 more weeks, trying to remain loyal to A. But alas, I fell.
I called A and told him I met someone, and it was over. Suddenly, he was like a mad man, declaring his love for me, and his plans to marry me. I told him it was over. He said he was coming home immediately. I said it was over. He arrived two weeks later. I told T I had to have some time with A for closure.
A proposed that first night back. Told me all of the things I had wanted to hear before he moved -- How I changed his life, how I meant more to him than anything in the world, including his career, how he couldn't live without me, how he *would* have children some day if that was important to him (since he was so emphatically anti-kid from Day 1), etc etc etc. He cried, he got down on a knee.
I told him no. Wrong reasons, wrong timing. I told him he was scared of losing me, which is not the same thing as wanting me. I told him that even though I loved him, my feelings for T showed he was not "The One" and asked him to leave.
I run in to A from time to time now. He is gorgeous....still has a face like Bon Jovi, but with short red hair. He is really well dressed now, and somewhere along the way he found a way to wear sleeves. He's married, with a child (he started dating R two weeks after he proposed to me, she got knocked up on their second date. How's that for ironic -- the guy who declared he would never have kids...then said he would just to make me happy). His daughter is the light of his life, but he never mentions his wife. I still imagine kissing him, but in a nostalgic kind of way.
No time for further details on the rest, but so you know the entire cast of this tale, I will briefly introduce you to:
T - my first "LOVE", having experienced "love" I knew I was feeling things far more intense this go-around....I truly truly truly thought he was "The One". I can see now how people get off track by "Almost The One", I almost did!
B - mysterious crush from afar. The kind where you have all of the concrete reasons of why not to give it a second thought, but you can't help yourself.
Z - the complicated one..... he was in love with me from the start. I loved that he was in love with me, and I truly liked him as a person.
To be continued....
