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I smiled as I clicked on the message notification and read,

“Bonjourno, princepesa.” 

I met him in the land of beautiful beaches, at an all-inclusive resort. That vacation was meant to be a girls getaway, but turned into a sensual turning point in my life.  A realization of the power that all women possess inherently – the ability to pursue your desire for no other reason than the word “want”. It was a heady epiphany, and one that comes with huge moral debate and responsibility. Neither of which I take lightly.

But we were both single, professionally successful, well-educated, and completely attracted to one another. Beginning with swimsuit-clad flirtations, leading to lengthy conversations and sweaty nightclub dancing, and ending with a memorable last-day-of-vacation all-nighter. As I flew away the next morning, fuzzy from the lack of sleep, I did my best not to freak the fuck out about it. I was a grown adult who made a choice entirely of my own persuasions, and I had nothing to regret. Yet still, I doubted that I’d ever hear from him again. That’s how it works, right?

But he proved me wrong.  He emailed within a few days of my return home. And despite my sporadic gaps of communication in the months during my relocation from North to South, he has continued to keep in touch.  Not every day or every week, but about every month or two, he’ll check in with me from his flat in London.

The timing on this most recent message is poignant.  Just as I’ve made a resolution to focus on anything BUT men, the universe throws me a curveball. Or two.

Two? Yes.

You see, when I met my most recent Ex, I was also seeing a gentleman that I met at my yoga studio. Let the record show that I am a horrible dating “juggler”. It is way too complicated and goes against every fiber of my being. So when things were progressing well with the Ex, but not as quickly with the Yogi, I told the Yogi that I could no longer see him.  I made the choice. That choice led to 4+ years of dating and eventual heartbreak with the Ex.

I haven’t spoken to Yogi for at least 3(?) years, but he called me on my birthday last week. We talked for about 30 minutes, catching up on our life changes, love debacles and generally enjoyed the company of the other over the miles of distance.

I have to admit that hearing his voice, remembering our ease with each other, it all made me wonder about the direction I chose not to walk at that starkly visible crossroad. Where would I be at this very moment, if I’d chosen differently? Would I still have moved to Atlanta?  Would I still be with Yogi?

But mostly, I wonder why the universe works the way it does sometimes… throwing out reminders of our past choices and forks in our romantic roads at the very moments when we’re doing our best to focus on anything but.  It seems almost cruel. Neither of these men are viable options.  Yet they each played a very significant role in defining the person that I am today.

And perhaps that….that is the answer to my own question.

One response »

  1. Pingback: First Name Only [FNO]: Intro « Fifty Shades of Peach

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