A heartbreak that changed my life…

I have ruined something that may have been beautifully catastrophic.

It’s amazing that while one person may be falling in love with someone on one side of the city, another person may be taking their last breath in a dusty motel room.

That fateful October night, I lost my best friend and gained a lover.

He appears at the restaurant door with a fresh bouquet of red roses that perfectly contrast against his black shirt and his luscious blond slicked back hair. He’s a rocker. You can take the rocker off the stage, but I’d notice those guitar calluses anywhere. His rocker energy is imminent. He smiles. It’s so genuine and sincere.

I gasp. Is it the red wine making me flush or is it his aura?

He leans in for a quick kiss on the cheek and hands me my flowers. I take a sniff before the waiter kindly asks if I wish to put them in a vase. I nod and say thank you.

My archangel and I immerse ourselves in the delicacies of my favorite French restaurant and another bottle of wine. The conversation moves so swiftly and so effortlessly. Before we know it, we’re the only people in the room…even though that is how it felt from the start.

Like a gentleman, he gently waves the waiter over for the check and pays without hesitation. We scurry out and he holds my hand the entire way til we get to my train where he plants a gentle kiss on me.

A couple weeks pass by and we continue to stay in touch.

He plans another date where we officially engage in a proper display of affection, kissing atop of the Chicago city views with not a care in the world…and I know I’m in love because this man went out of his way to bring my innocent fantasy of kissing with a view to life. He’s perfect and he smells great.

We get lost in our existential crisis conversations.

I fell in love at a weird point in my life. I lost my dad the same date of October nearly a year prior and my best friend that very year…eclipsed with grief yet again. How could I even begin to feel happy? I felt guilty because against all odds, my archangel ignited something in me that hasn’t been ignited before…at least not in this way.

2 years later…

I’m still in a committed relationship which I fully believe will lead me down the aisle…not the airplane aisle, but THE aisle this time. It’s crazy. I never really saw myself to be the corny type…you know…one to scrapbook and plan a whole wedding before it even began.

Archangel and I were on the same page when it came to an elaborate island wedding and while these were all hearsay pillow talk conversations at 4 in the morning, I wanted Fiji and he wanted the Dominican Republic.

“We could do both. Who's going to stop us?”

I squealed in my head already crafting the puurrrfect goth Vera Wang wedding dress circa Avril Lavigne x Chad Kroeger.

7 months later…

We appear at a new spot in Southport with intricate drinks and even more interesting side dishes. A cutesy, fancy, shmancy Chicago bar. We both appear with matching outfits, totally impromptu, black leather jackets, silver chains, and of course fishnet tights per his request.

I feel beautiful, I feel seen, I feel gorgeous. I feel…his.

“Hi gorgeous,” he greets me.

“Hi handsome,” I responded.

At this point in our relationship, we make it known to everyone in the room that we’re together, engulfed in a long French kiss, before we finally sit down and order our dirty martinis. He holds one hand on my knee and one hand is holding mine.

Eventually the conversation steers in the direction of…would you like to meet my family. To my surprise, I swiftly realize that maybe I’ve pushed the bar a little too far. I blame the drinks for my sudden burst of confidence.

He wipes his mouth with the white cloth that up until this point was perfectly sitting still in his lap. The first sign of discomfort as he starts to fidget.

He clears his throat and says,

“I don’t think I want to get that involved.”

In one swift slow motion, my entire world comes crashing down…and because life can be funny that way, a few girls dolled up in YSL spot me across the room to run over and say hi. They are people I’ve known from college and of course they’re here right now. Their words do not register to me because all I can hear is ringing in my ears…like I’ve just been hit with a grenade of the greatest caliber. It was supposed to destroy me, but somehow I’m still here. I’ve got to remember that I’ve got expensive eyeliner on so I can’t fucking ruin it.

“Oh my gosh, we’re so rude! Who’s this?”

I raise my eyebrow and am hoping he’ll do the honors.

He introduces himself and shakes their hand. They continue to say something to me, but I can’t really hear. I understand enough to respond and smile like an idiot. They disappear. He grabs the check and then grabs my hand.

“Cmon, gorgeous. You want to go home?”

I follow him…because what the fuck else am I supposed to do? The Uber is almost here and it’s one of those tall cars I can never get into effortlessly on account of being short as all fuck and wearing leather shorts that are squeezing all of my insides. He, of course, lifts me like it’s nothing.

“Your husband is so sweet, miss.”

I smile at that idea…while knowing that that prospect has left the stage. He grabs my hand and squeezes it, lifts my chin and kisses me.

I don’t understand anything anymore.

4 months later…

The chef of Chez Moi, my favorite French restaurant, passes away unexpectedly. The restaurant closes permanently. I stand at the bus stop staring at the empty retail space.

My relationship is also obsolete at this point. The archangel has taken flight. I deleted his number, but I didn't have the heart to delete the pictures yet…

Now…

I pass the location on the way to the Apple store and come to find out it’s under new management. It’s a Thai place now. It’s redefined. It’s gained new wings…

Why haven’t I?