Day Fourteen - In Repair

Talking to a friend, thinking about how dysfunctional we both are, I realized that I am ready to grow out of that. When I was younger I thought I was going to die. My father, or course, stubborn as he is, never let me for a minute feel pity for myself after I was diagnosed. My mother doted on me in a way that I found endearing, but smothering. I went through the motions of life itself, but I never thought I'd have anything left after that. Here is the raw truth: I was hoping it would be quick. Because what was actually killing me, was the anticipation of a young death.

Except, I didn't die. I got better. Slowly but surely. And still then I didn't dare to hope.

I run into Ernst, my office crush, almost everyday now. I remember those dates we had last year. Driving up to the Coliseum and catching a concert. A late dinner at an all night Dinner after that. I thought, that was the happiest I could possibly be. For someone who was just getting used to the idea that death might not be the only option in life, that was as good as it got. And in my eyes, Ernst was the best looking man ever. Tall, thin, pale with blue eyes and jet black hair, the very definition of a rock star, who doesn't know he was one. He was in the habit of sporting an "aw, shucks" grin. As if to remind me that he knew the world thought he was great looking, but he himself couldn't care less.

Like I say, I run into him now almost everyday. Honestly I couldn't care less. I noticed his haircut today. It seemed silly and extremely affected. He is the exact opposite of what I wanted him to be. He follows trends to the T, from the skinny jeans to faux-flannel shirts. At his early 30's, he looks straight out of "Twilight". I felt surprised at the realization that I hadn't really thought about him in months, or even noticed his presence. Even more was my surprise when I laughed inwardly at that man-child.

My friend, my female friend, and I usually shoot the breeze about relationships. It has been like that for years. We used to agree that we were both too "fucked up" to ever find a true, lasting love. It was all hard work and little reward, so we came to the conclusion that we should really try to avoid them. We could go out on dates, have lovers, have fun. Why mess with that, if at the end of the day all you want is to curl up to a good book and drink a glass of wine as you watch some good TiVo'ed stuff?

I disagree now and I think she felt sad to be on her own. I think she felt as disappointed as I felt when Mar found Oz. Misery loves company and now she is alone. And I am in repair. I may be past the stage where I need a text or any other sign of life from Ryan every other minute. Maybe the honey moon period is over. But all I have to do is look into my life to realize the effect this wonderful man has had on me. He didn't change my world. I still have a hard time getting through a workday and sometimes that old depression comes back. No, he didn't change my world, but he did make me feel like starting over and trying to become a better person. He made me dream of a real life, of womanhood, of sharing a bed and waking up next to someone I want to cuddle up with. He made me think of names for potential children and of a small house in the suburbs where I would be the best soccer mom ever. And for that, I will alway be indebted to him. And, if I have any luck, I will always be in love with him.