My friend had her heart broken a few years ago. I spent months on the phone with her, while she cried, lived in her pajamas, and rode the roller coaster with the man that everything should have worked out with.
Even though she’s met and married a man she loves and who loves her, the one who broke her heart says the same words to her over and over again when he visits her in her dreams, “You’re the most wonderful woman I’ve ever been with, but my life is a mess that I can’t involve you in. I just wish things could be different.”
Do they hand out that script in the male section of Life Studies class while we girls are learning how to boil eggs?
And it wasn’t her. It was absolutely him. She’s perfect. He’s crazy, and he’s crazier still because he let her go. But the question she was left with, the question we all ask ourselves when it happens to us, is: “If I’m so great, then why don’t you love me?”
Had a great time with Carrie this weekend, even though I slept through most of it. I really did have the best intentions, but I’d get to this point in the evening where I’d just pass out. I guess the last six weeks of running around, and the comfort of having someone else to take care of me, just hit me.
Friday night we stayed at this hotel out on the beach and went to the dinner that acted as the closing ceremony for the project I’ve been involved with at work. After, we hung out for a bit in the hotel lounge with a group of about ten people from the dinner.
Whenever I meet couples, I ask how they met. It’s my thing. I get a little insight into the people by listening, not just to their story, but how they tell it. So, when I met this great couple that had such a neat love story, it just made me feel good to be around them. When the woman was telling me how they got together, I just wanted to hug her. Their story was so real. He’s a really good guy, and she’s a doll and so funny.
The company was great, but I only lasted until about midnight. Carrie and I went up to the suite, and I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The next morning, Carrie and I sat in front of a window overlooking the bay in the hotel restaurant to eat brunch the next morning and then took a walk along the boardwalk as we talked about plans for next year’s girl trip. Then we spent the day shopping and met Karli for lunch at Tijuana Flats. We ran up to Walgreens afterward to buy batteries for Carrie’s phone charger, and I found my absolute favorite lip gloss from my childhood.
Later, as we settled in for our annual All Night Junk Food Chick Flick Fest, I laid my head down on the arm of the sofa at about eight o’clock, and the next thing I knew, my dog was breathing in my face with a shoe in his mouth at five o’clock in the morning. We’d never even gotten to the triple-layer chocolate cake.
The weather turned cold today. Before Carrie left, we had the talk I knew was coming, about how I needed to get back in the game, now that I was out of excuses and things to keep me otherwise occupied. I hugged her at the escalator to the airport gates and walked away feeling resigned and thinking about another airport in another city and good-byes.