The Ghost of Christmas Past

It took me three (THREE!) days of trying to finally get home from visiting my family over Christmas. #*%$@!* airlines! It was three days of numerous trips to various airports, numerous phone calls to numerous airlines, numerous possible connection flights, to numerous arrival destinations from numerous possible departure cities. My mother's best friend said to me, "My half sister, whose crazy, always says to me in times like this that it must be for a reason." Of course, I like the thought of there being a good reason....

On my final attempt I made it home via a connection in Salt Lake where I saw in the airport for the first time in five years the last man who broke my heart (who also holds the special distinction of being the only one to have ever broken it twice.) Well, as far as "reasons" go- I find this one to be... undesirable. I find it has that, "of all the gin joints in all the world" quality to it.

He is the only man (as of yet) that I could see myself marrying, spending the rest of my life with, however, he is not one of the one's who actually asked. He's been far better suited to me than all the others put together. He made me laugh so hard- the way my brother used to when I was little when my Kool-Aid would come out of my nose. He was bright, clever, talented, and sexy. I am a vegetarian without a television- a freak basically. Him too. Oh, and he was the absolute perfect mix of sweet & dirty. He would always open the car door for me first which I usually find a bit much, but when he'd come over to open the door he'd always press me up against it.

In the old days this would've been written on paper & when you got to this point of reading it you would've been able to see that I had started to cry by the tear stains on the page.

When he came back to break my heart the second time I think it had been three years since he had done it the first time. It was not for a lack of trying that neither one us quite got over the other. I was very skeptical of him the second time. I consulted my "advisers," and he fooled each & every one of us straight across the board that time- even the most cynical & skeptical believed him sincere, believed he deserved the second chance. ...and I think that it is poignant to mention that he was gone again even before all the flowers that he had brought when he first came back had died.

So, I was in the airport in Salt Lake City. I had never been there before & I had just come from taking in the spectacular view of the mountains out the window. I had been up all night. I was standing in front of the gate, but out farther -out of the way. I'm not a big sitter & flying is already waaaay too much sitting for me that I don't like to sit during the lay overs. I was staring off into the abyss when I couldn't help but notice that inches away from my face passed that man that I had loved so much. It is much more likely than not that he saw me first, but he passed. Right then my "zone" was called to board. He and his very significant other were boarding in front of me with only one person between us. He was cradling her in front of him as they walked. It is a strange sight to behold one who used to touch you- touching someone else. She really loves him. I could very clearly see that on her face. Of course, I cannot blame her. I didn't say anything then, because it didn't seem right to interrupt. Also, what does one say at that point? "Remember I told you that I never wanted to hear from you ever again? I've never really loved anyone the way that I loved you. Yeah, so how are you? Crazy weather- huh?"

I was afraid that we were going to be seated next to one another, but thankfully they turned out to be many many many rows behind me. I was glad (really glad) not to have been really upset by it all. I know that it's been all these years, but when I do fall- I fall. I slept next to another man nearly every night for two years- never fell in love with him. Not even almost. That probably sounds wrong, but for whatever its worth, it was a really long time ago. I seem to have a big heart with very tight security.

We landed & I de-planed. Even though I had a good head start off of the plane I ended up passing him anyway. And when I had to pass mere inches from his face I said, "Hi." He turned and acted surprised when he said, "Hi," which made me certain that he had, in fact, seen me prior to that. I didn't stop. It was too awkward & probably just too unhealthy for everyone involved for me to have stopped. She looked at me curiously, and I doubted that he would tell her who I really was when she asked.

Long ago he even wrote a song about me. Right around that same time the one previous to him was doing a painting of me, and since then another has written a poem. I have realized that it is past time for this muse to put her own inspiration into her own art.

I thought that I had managed it well at the airports. Until today. The old wound seems to be festering a bit. Maybe, heartache is an injury that will always be a little sore if you press on it.

I do admit that I don't entirely like the idea that he could love her more than me, but more than that I hate the idea that he could call me to say the opposite. I worried that that could happen. That woman with that look of love upon her face- I wish her better than what I got.