A couple of days later I went to pick up J to go somewhere or other and before we got out of her apartment door she stopped suddenly, remembering something important.
She handed me a scrap of notebook paper with Cute Dancing Artist Man’s name and a phone number on it.
“He made me promise to give this to you. Now I have. You may now do whatever you want with it.”
Now normally I would toss a number I didn’t want right away. And I almost did. Several times. But something stopped me each time, some nagging, nameless “what if” in the back of my mind, a tug at my heart strings. I put that paper scrap in my planner where it stayed un-used for six months.
By then I was dating the perfect man. A beautiful, humble man I had met in grad school. He had just inherited a tidy sum and would never have to be gainfully employed- he could do whatever he wanted with his life. He had chosen to go to grad school so he could work with at risk youth. (Collective Awwww.) He was also a model and drop- dead -head -turning good looking.
But I still had that stupid piece of scrap paper that I just couldn’t (or wouldn’t) make myself toss out.
What was it about this man that so intrigued me? I had to find out.
On a cold January afternoon I called him and a few days later we met for lunch. Four dates later and I dropped Mr. Perfect. A year, three marriage proposals and a few months later, I married Cute Dancing Artist Man and he became H2.
We had a lot of fun together, in the beginning he was a fantastic step-father to my son, we many good times and we produced a beautiful person in the form of our daughter. The passion between us never died but H2 was a teacher of some harsh necessary lessons and after 12 years of marriage we had to call it quits.
I thank the Universe for our time together, our daughter and the growth that our relationship inspired in me which has introduced me to love of myself and prepared me to be a better mate for someone else in the future.
PS: after writing this I went online to do some research for a story and discovered psychologist Robert Sternberg’s triangular theory of interpersonal relationships. I will be exploring this more in an upcoming post.
Can you guess where I went wrong in my decision to date the man who became H2?