“It wasn’t messy, it was f*@%d up.”

 

When I stumbled on that line in the movie ‘The Kids Are All Right” it struck a chord deep within – very deep. How could one line in a movie capture so perfectly all of the craziness of my last romantic relationship? I’ve been wondering for months just why it is that my one post about how my heart was broken when I got dumped via text message continues to be the most frequently read post on this blog. A very wise friend of mine posits that people like this post because it is an experience many people can identify and connect with but are loathe to talk about or share.

I continue to be amazed at the clarity that comes with distance and time.

What looked like love was not. What I thought was a connection that defied any I’d ever had with another person was chemistry mixed with a shared passion for jazz and Impressionist art. We see what we want to see and we hear what we want (and need) to hear. It isn’t love if it isn’t reciprocated. It isn’t love if you’re not really both in it – all the way in it. We weren’t equally invested. I knew this from the beginning. He was hesitant to even start the relationship but would rather have tried than to have lost me completely. The irony of course is that he did end up losing me and I lost the him that I never really had to begin with.

So what is next? I really don’t know. We are getting ready to do our strange dance again – this time purely as friends, which is where it all began so many years ago for us. I don’t know if you can ever really reset a relationship with someone with whom you have been deeply intimate. We shall see. I’ve decided to start dating again as a sort of counterbalance to this awkweird situation that we now find ourselves trying to create. (Yes, I just made up a word: awkward + weird = awkweird). The backdrop of our first meeting will be an art gallery in D.C., of course.

What will be different this third go round? ... everything and nothing.