In the long-ago 1980s, I dated a lovely man. He loved movies and Monty Python's Flying Circus and Saturday Night Live. He was funny, literate and had really terrific hair. Oh, he had flaws -- he wore a mustache to camouflage acne scars and wore a tie even when he didn't have to. He seemed dull and more than a little wimpy during the days when I was into coke and late nights and bad boys. So I threw him over for a better looking, far more tortured SOB who would go on to be the worst thing that ever happened to me.
Still, I have kept up with the Lovely Man. I remember his birthday every year (he's joked that he has more birthday cards from me than Susan Lucci has Daytime Emmy nominations) and we exchange Christmas cards. His arrived today. He is the Director of Corporate Branding. His wife has finally agreed to let him have a dog. Their oldest daughter has graduated from Notre Dame and is planning a winter vacation in Costa Rica. Their oldest boy is a junior at Marquette. (Last time I saw him, he was 7 years old and amused himself by running back and forth, up and down the hall, for no particular reason.) Their youngest boy plays highschool football and their youngest girl is in junior high, involved in theater and just as eager as her dad about the arrival of the puppy.
After reading the card and note I wondered: Would I have this bucolic life if I had married him? Would I be the happy mother of four? Would that be me, getting ready to bring a new puppy home?
No. Because I didn't love the Lovely Man. While he was better for me, he was still ultimately wrong because I didn't love him. My conundrum was set to music in this popular song of the day. So while I feel wistful, I have no regrets. For to answer Glenn Frey, when it comes to choosing between the one who loved me and the one I loved, I had to choose the one I loved. I'm just sorry that the one I loved was so unworthy of me. But it's nice that the one who loved me, the Lovely Man, went on to fall in love with the woman who gave him such a wonderful life.
Sometimes I confuse "wistful" with regretting. It really is the former and not the latter with me. Thanks for helping to clarify that in my pencil brain.
ReplyDeleteSo nice that the two of you stay in touch. That is rare and admirable. I have experienced, as well, a touch of the "lovely man I didn't love" in my life - someone years ago who could have given me a stable, and ultimately boring and passionless life. I'd much rather ditch the 4-car-garage and explore a twinge of hold-on-to-your-seat unpredictability in a relationship (I didn't say infidelity/unkindness, that is something totally different)...
I am, to a fault, a follow-my-heart kinda girl....which sometimes trips me up when logically choosing a "perfect match" (oh please - how utterly dull) but beats the hell out of Junior League meetings and tea for two in the afternoon. I find "differences" challenging and exciting, as long as they don't hurt or require me to sacrifice my own morality and boundaries for their sake - or make them feel, either, that they need to change for me. Either way is no good.
I am sorry that the one you really loved treated you so badly and was not capable, at the time, of returning your gift. It is a shame.