Recently I had dinner with an ex-boyfriend whom I'd not seen in ages. After ten years of on-again, off-again, we split for good and went our separate ways. It would be another ten years before we saw each other again, something I never expected to happen. But it did.
Our relationship was never bad. In fact it was wonderful, which made our ultimate demise all the more mysterious. He was really sweet, super smart out of the Ivy League, at the tippy-top of his field, sexy and ridiculously handsome. He always used to say how he couldn't fathom his life without me and professed that I was the love of his life. And yet, there we were after all of those years, not together.
Fast forward to a business trip that put me in the same city where he lives. Through a string of events that are too off-topic for the purposes of this post, we spoke and agreed to meet at my hotel for dinner. The initial hug was spectacular and the kiss good-bye was, well shall we say, more than that. In between, we did lots of talking about lots of things. There was an occasional tear and a few awkward moments, the most confounding of which was a conversation about the woman whom he did marry, and divorce two years later. From soup to nuts she is everything that I am not. Our looks, personalities, values, and virtues could not be more diametrically opposed. Hearing him talk about her in terms that were not at all endearing, and at times disparaging, made both the quality and ultimate failure of our relationship even more mindboggling.
He talked about how awful his marriage had been and how miserable, mean and manipulative his ex-wife was too. Shocked beyond my ability to think, I was like, "What? Why?" There was no love. He said so himself. My eyebrows furrowed into the middle of my forehead as I once again thought, "What's happening?"
Completely unable to piece it all together in my own head I finally said, "Sorry, but I have to ask. How do you go from us to that?" Without hesitation, as clear as sunlight, he averted his glance slightly toward his plate and said, "Because you never made me feel worthless." Worthless? Oh my God. How was that possible? Worthless? He was incredible. It really makes me wonder how come the great ones don't see how great they are and the crummy ones don't see how crummy they are? It's all so backwards, although it was an eye-opener for sure. I finally had my answer. The mystery was solved, and in an instant I went from feeling settled by a fleeting moment of clarity to being deeply conflicted. Now that I was able to look back and see the whole picture, I realized that our fork in the road led to a choice between being apart in love or together in its absence. Sad, tragic, enlightening. Yes, all of the above.
Now, fast forward again to me feeling the urge to turn this experience into a blog post. I sent said ex-boyfriend an email to ask if he had any objections to me sharing the story, noting my full awareness that it was a personal exchange between us, the private nature of which I respected. He responded. "Of course I don't mind. If our conversation could help other people, go for it," to which I answered. "You're amazing. I love you." He wrote back, "I love you too. So, so much."
So, I'm left with a burning question that still haunts me. Which is better? To have the guy who doesn't love you, or to lose the one who does?
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