Heartbreak is Like Herpes

Heartbreak is Like Herpes

Since the 1980's I have always known that one day I would write, always pictured myself with a typewriter (okay, so its a very dated vision) perched at a beautiful desk in a leather chair in front of a picture window with a view of the Pacific, seagulls and perhaps sea lions to keep me company as I produced the great novel.  As a well-traveled African American young woman I envisioned the novel would be about my exotic travels to the many foreign lands I had visited and had yet to visit, perhaps about the unique experiences I have had abroad.  I never knew exactly when I would write or what I would write about. I just new that it would be noble and intellectual. I had a strong sense of knowing that the inspiration would one day come and the time to sit down and let words pour out of my fingertips would then follow.

Flash forward to the millennial.  I didn't realize nor plan for today to the THE day.  I find myself sitting with a laptop, not a typewriter.  My medium is not a novel at all, its a blog.  My rear end is firmly planted in a wicker chair versus luxury leather.  My "desk" is the table to my patio set.  I am looking out at a mountain view with lizards and rabbits as my friends, versus looking through a glass window pane with sea animals as my colleagues.  And with all of my personal and professional travels around the globe since the 80's, of all of the many interesting stories I could tell from the most unique of perspectives, I have come to know exactly what will leave my heart and mind, journey through my hands to meet your eyes.  Holy cow, I realize right now in this moment that my past and present have surely connected as I always knew they would.  It looks and feels a little different than I imagined, but is comfortably familiar.

Lets just say that heartbreak is an irresistible and  powerful motivator to a writer.  I'm just learning that myself first hand.  One need only take a stroll down the aisles of a bookstore or a surf on the net to see that.  And its not like the world really needs one more article, book or blog about a woman's woes in the relationship department. And of all of the powerful epic stores I could potentially tell, its a little embarrassing that I would  select such a potentially shallow and over-used topic.  Intellectual?  Hardly.  But these fingers have to go where they will.  And besides, the topic picked me, I didn't really pick IT.

Its a crying shame, really, that I experienced my first brush with heartbreak at the ripe old age of 41.  How come it couldn't be at the age of 16 like all the other women I know?  How come it couldn't have happened with my first high-school-boyfriend? Or my first true-love-live-in when I was college age? Or even my ex-husband of 11 years?  Needless to say I am swimming in foreign emotional waters and at my age its not pretty.  What an intrusion it has been in fact!  Didn't God know that I am an accomplished professional, with a very satisfying life, two sons to raise and the world still to take on?  Is this a Karma thing or a Freudian thing or the universe's idea of a bad joke thing?  I don't have TIME for licking wounds and figuring it out, I have shit to do! 

Perhaps I should mention what happened. I have been avoiding that so far.  I re-met and fell in love with an old friend from my childhood.  It was my first relationship after my divorce although I think he would call our union something else if you asked him about it now.  Love at first sight---again.  Being with him was like finding myself in a dark room for a long time and then suddenly someone just flicks bright lights on.  He swept me off my feet and took me to the moon for about six months.  The six months that would follow was a slow ascension into relationship hell and it finally came to an emotional but mutual end.  Mostly over him not being able to commit emotionally due to "personal issues in his life"; issues that he spent the collective year crying on my shoulder about, so much so that they became my own.  But that was cool, he needed me! Besides, I had issues of my own so I understood, right?  Right.  In the end, to use his words, "I love you, its just not our time".  Okay, I'll buy that.  Waited long enough for him to come around. Loved him but had to let him go.  No harm, no foul, right?  Wrong.

Come to find out that while he was sweeping me off my feet, professing his love, taking me to the moon and sopping up my vulnerability like a biscuit, he took his "ex" on a trip, had regular bootie-calls and was even dating at the same time as me someone that he not only met on Facebook but was best friends with a friend of mine.  He even moved in with Ms. Facebook within a few short weeks of our "break-up".  Needless to say he got over his commitment phobia pretty quickly!  And what I got was my first official brush with rejection and heartbreak.  Typical story of a smart woman who makes dumb choices.  But why I had to make such bad choices at this stage of my life when I am at the top of game in every other area?  Well, I am still trying to figure it out.  

Now, its been long enough that I can say that I am completely over him and the relationship itself.  I'm still dealing with some of the emotional issues it left behind.  My wounds are mostly to my very large ego.  But I am re-reading a good book on the subject of checking the ego.  And don't think for a hot second that my dive into "foreign emotional waters" has discouraged me from taking another swim.  Certainly I have some complicated feelings and emotions that need to be sorted out.  No rush.  But don't we all? Isn't that what we call "baggage"?  Well, I've got THAT.  

I have dated others since then and I really have moved on.  Over it completely.   My Dad told me once that men are like RTD Buses---just stand still long enough and one will be by in about ten minutes.  And he is so right.  There has been no shortage of suitors since that break-up.  Since then I have even met someone that I really do like a lot.  I am not afraid to learn life's lessons and live life fully and figure it out along the way.  But I am the first to admit that heartbreak at the age of 41 is for the birds.  Its probably kind of like herpes---you never really get rid of it, occasionally need meds and you can get an outbreak at unexpected times.