My Best Ex

Many times when we say ex, referring to a former lover or spouse, it denotes the connotation that it is something bad. A horrible experience that we are happy to get away from. If the relationship didn't bring forth offspring then the break is usually clean and harmless. However, if children were conceived then the bond is tougher to dissolve

But what about the good exes? The ones that you wish you could turn back time and relive again. The ones where you see them and all the memories come back. Where the break up was silly, and the relationship was nothing but good.

The good exes....like Paul Danforth.

I couldn't believe I agreed to meet for coffee but there I was, at a popular coffee shop in the core of the city. My heart was beating so fast I felt my breath catch. It had been 20 years since I laid eyes on him in person. His height and stature were still the same, towering over the bustling crowd that surrounded him. I studied him as he casually strolled towards our meeting place. His style of dress hadn’t altered either; starched dress slacks, tucked button down shirt with a silk black and gold tie and shoes shining as bright as brass tacks. He was perpetually sharp, even before he completed his three years in the Army, he was always put together.

Who has butterflies at nearly fifty-one years of age? I did, and they fluttered so badly that only the sip of hot green tea from the heat resistant paper cup would help settled them down.

Should I have worn that blue sweater? Did I put on the right perfume? What if I say something stupid? I thought to myself. Especially about the last question; my ability to speak without thinking had caused the break-up in the first place . If I had been more mature and calmer in my emotions, we might have been celebrating our anniversary instead of putting together the missing pieces of our lives that we didn’t allow social media to show.

“Hey you!” He said, his raspy sweet voice sounded like a cool evening rain and his smile still warm and safe, just as it was when we were a couple. He slid smoothly into the bench in the booth I picked when I stepped into the store, right in front of the coffee shops' window so I could watch out for his arrival. His dark mocha skin was smooth and healthy, a result of the clean lifestyle he’d lived by for years. He was at a good weight, nearly at the point when we were a couple. And aside from a few changes to his hair (he choose to be clean shaven except for the salt and pepper goatee that was now giving me life), he appeared much like the young man I eyed in 1989 as he was headed towards his poli-sci class at Westview University.

"Hey Paul, it's good to see you."

"Same here. I see you started without me." he said, nodding in the direction of my cup. "Let me guess, green tea, three sugars and one lemon." he stated, his eyes were slightly closed as to attempt to recall the information correctly.

"Right as rain. No use of changing." I said smiling. He was still handsome, sweet and a perfect gentleman.

Suddenly a olive toned millennial woman appeared beside him and offered a 8X10 sized card that showed the menu offerings for lunch. He took the card graciously and that's where I saw it. The gold band with four diamond studs flashed its silent reminder to me. He was married.

For the strangest reason, my heart sank. I knew he was married, a mutual friend had told me several years before. The butterflies instantly collapsed to the very pit of my stomach and my heart skipped again. I had my own rock on my left hand signaling the nearly 25 years I had been married, so the disappointment was unexpected. Maybe due to the fact thst it had been a tough row to go for most of my wedded years, I had been rethinking my life.

And it wasn't as if he was hiding anything. His family (two kids he shared with his wife) were often the center of his posts. A smiling collection of good parenting and solid relationships; something, although I consider myself blessed, my life seemed to lack in places. I led off with the usual questions. How’s your job? What have you been up to? How are the kids?

I never feign interest in his spouse. Why should I ask when I really don't care? Yes I hope she treats him well, for his sake. Yes, I hope she is healthy to be able to take care of the wifely duties that I should be taking care of. But do I really care how she is? No. Not.in.the.least.

He didn't ask me about my husband either. Did he feel the same way I did? Or was he just following my lead? He asked me about my sons as I asked him about his twin daughters, who looked exactly like him. He asked me about my job as a human resource manager for one of the largest banks in the U.S. and asked me about family that he remembered from our time together, as I did of him.

"This is pretty. But mine would have been bigger." He said, touching the center 3 karat stone of my total 7 karat ring. If the ring he had planned to give me was any bigger, I would have to had insured not only my ring, but my actual hand.

"Oh really?" I said, a little taken off guard. Our conversations online had been polite. Even in messenger you would have thought we were each others clients. Which would have worked because he was a lawyer in one of the largest firms in the city. This conversation was taking an awkward, but exciting turn.

"Well this is nice, too." I said, taking his lead and playfully tapping his band. But I would have went with titanium.”

"Really, why?” He asked.

"Titanium is indestructible. It would have been a symbol."

"Of......?" I thought the ring itself was a symbol.”

"Extra insurance." I said slyly.

His smile suddenly erupted into a gregarious laughter that garnered attention from the other guests. He didn't seem to care that for a split second, all eyes were on us.

"Well, had you not let a brother down then we would have had the chance to see."

I instantly dropped my head. There it was, the resurgence of my greatest funble. It was me that caused the break up. It was me who didn't hold on. One episode caused me to give up the very man I believed I needed in my life.

"Hey. He said softly, lifting my chin with his finger. It's ok, I understand."

Vut, I didn’t understand.

Since I was in high school, I was always boy-crazy. I always was the one to initiate the crush, to make my intentions known and to inquire their dating status through mutual friends. But each time, I was always spurned, politely appreciated or just flat out rejected.

By the time I reached Westview University, I was so shy that when guys were interested in me, I thought they were playing. I quickly became accustomed to using sex as my coping mechanism. If I liked you and we began dating, sexual contact was surely a part of the deal. I didn't need emotions for it. Just as long as we were on the same ability level, then we could satisfy each other.

Until Paul.

He was in a lane all alone. On our first date, he showed what a true gentleman was. He opened car, restaurant and any door we were going through. He brought flowers, stuffed animals, candy and anything else he thought I would like. He learned about me by the old-fashioned style of courting and I savored every morsel. Within two months, we were ready to take our relationship deeper. This wasn’t just sex it was almost spiritual. It was pure love, joy and raw emotion. I remember one night after one of our sexsions (hours long of love making) as he planted kisses all over my face and body, tears fell from my eyes. I finally had found the one in whom my heart loved. He only wanted to make me happy, and I felt the same for him. How rare it was to find someone who the love was genuinely real. My emotional scale was equal for the first time in my life. But now we are here; my weights lopsided and my heart in my hand. I found myself loving someone who I could never have again.

If I would have known the feelings would resurface would I have met with Paul? I knew at that point I was feeling those emotions wash over me like salt water waves and the opened wounds were stinging. I felt guilt, disappointment in myself and a longing of what could have been. My mind rushed back to a moving picture of long car rides, quiet dinners and birthday and Christmas celebrations of our past. If my life would ever flash before me, these memories would have a solid footing in the line up.

"Lynn? What's wrong?" He asked as the recent burst off laughter subsided and gave-way to concern.

I felt stuck. My thoughts were racing a million miles a minute. This was not supposed to happen. I thought I had a good hold on myself but these actions were proving much louder than words. I could only utter a response that was barely audible.

"Everything."