I have thought through every angle for more than a year. I've made vague references in other published writings and written boldly in my tattered hand-written journals. I'm nervous as I sit here in my favorite corner of my couch, knowing that I'm about to expose my most private, vulnerable and possibly, foolish, thoughts. I've come to the conclusion that I have no other choice. I am not finding clarity or resolution anywhere else. This is the story about how I met, fell in love with, and lost the best man I've ever known...
This is only my perspective, since it's the only one I have:
September 2011
The day was the 17th. My fake sister-in-law and I had spend the day, not surprisingly, shopping. We tried on hats and scarves and shoes. I bought two pairs, they were amazing. I'm digressing... While we shopped I was telling her about my irritation with the guy that I had been trying to get rid of. He was polite enough at first, but had recently gotten a little pushy and possessive and seemed obsessed with finding out where I live. Something told me to stay faaarrrrr away.
That night she and I picked up another hairstylist friend of mine for dinner. We had a great meal, and sat for awhile on the, still gorgeous, patio by the fire-pit of a downtown restaurant. All three of us were in a great mood and decided to wander to a sports pub downtown to mingle with people. As we entered the pub, we ran into three or four guys that offered to buy us a drink. As we were talking, a few more of their group showed up...
When I turned around and saw him, I instantly started feeling clumsy. This is important: He was the most gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes on. I got butterflies, which is completely unlike me. I carry myself with confidence at all times, but this time I got instantly stupid. In an effort to recover my composure, I led my friends into the adjoining restaurant, inviting the men to join us if they felt like it. I told myself if they came over, it would be because my friends are both incredibly gorgeous. A few of their group followed so we filled a couple of tables. Mr. Gorgeous, who I will now refer to as Randy for the remainder of the story, only because I'm becoming a fan of making up names for this blog, didn't come right in. I was relieved. I was disappointed.
As I sat there chatting with the guys at my table, the one next to me kept grabbing for my hand. I kept pulling away from him, but he was persistent. This silent little back and forth continued until another hand was on mine. Randy had slipped in next to me. He quietly pulled my hand away from the persistent one and placed it on the table in front of me. Then he looked at me and asked "are you alright?" I nodded and continued my conversation with the guy across the table. Randy stepped over to the group at the table behind me. Interesting. So, chivalry isn't dead...
Almost immediately following Randy's settling at the other table with my friends, I looked up and saw Mr. Possessive, from the previous weeks, sauntering across the room. Awkward. "YOU are not who I want to see right now", I thought to myself. I halfheartedly introduced him to the group, wondering if they knew each other at all. All 7 of the guys were in town working. There had been an oil spill in the Yellowstone River and disaster response specialists had been summoned.
Eventually our group of 10 whittled down to 4, Mr. Possesive, Randy, my fake sister-in-law and I. At some point in the evening she had given Randy my business card and encouraged him to get his hair cut. Funny, he hasn't done that in two years. Aside from the hair, the chivalry, his viking-like rugged good looks and his lumberjack strength, I noticed four specific things about Randy that night: 1- he has amazing teeth 2- He has deep, beautiful, kind eyes 3- he has a witty, sharp sense of humor 4- he is extremely generous.
The next morning my fake sister-in-law and I met for breakfast. We had the typical nonsense chatter you'd expect from girls after a night of fun, but then things got deeper. She knows me well. She knows, better than most, what I've been through in the last several years. She understands my fear, doubt, insecurity, hopes and desires had has the specifics as to WHY they are so strong.
"What do you think of Randy?" Her words got directly to the point.
"Uhhhhh, from what I know, he's exactly my "type". I couldn't have drawn a more perfect sketch. Obviously we know nothing about him, but we can assume that he's a jerk."
"Why would we assume that, Collene?"
"Well look at him! He's gorgeous, funny, generous, intelligent. He can have ANYONE. He's probably used to getting what he wants. I bet he's used to using women."
"I doubt that, he didn't seem like that. I bet he calls you Collene. You need to call me immediately when he does."
"Whatever, let's pretend that he's has integrity and character and humility and honesty, a guy like that isn't attracted to a girl like me."
She went on to protest the "girl like me" statement for awhile. "Collene, the kind of guy you describe is EXACTLY the kind of guy God has for you. Tell me when Randy calls, it's going to happen." We agreed to disagree and went about our week.
I got the call five days later. Later he told me that he and Mr. Possessive had stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes and talked about me as we all left that night. Although he claims he can't remember what Mr. Possessive said, exactly, he had looked at my card every morning and night since- and knew he had to call me.
The day he called, he had to leave a message. I was up to my elbows in a color correction at work that I could leave alone. He wanted a haircut, well really, he wanted the free perm I had allegedly promised him. Nice, he's still charming. I scheduled him for my day off. The salon girls and I were heading out of town for a weekend of further education classes and I figured I could work him in before the trip on Saturday.
Friday night I didn't sleep, AT ALL. What if I made a fool of myself without the distraction of 8 other people, music, drinks and food? What if I cut myself, or worse, him? I thought about cancelling, especially after a sleepless night, but my desire to see him again won that little mental war.
The appointment quickly settled into a fun, relaxed, atmosphere. The crazy girls I work with did their best to stay out of our way, while they watched. Later they all three commented about how different I was with him, than with my other clients. "Collene, I had no idea you were such a flirt! You two had such fun chemistry, THAT was better than any movie. Are you going to see him again?"
"Of course not", I replied. He just needed a haircut and he's leaving anyway. "Needed a haircut Collene? The guy hasn't stepped into a salon in two years and suddenly, before he goes HOME to where his hairstylist lives, he neeeeeeeeds a haircut? Whatever!"
We hit the road for the weekend of classes. Within a half hour Randy sent me a text, thanking me for the "best haircut he's ever had"... we spent the rest of the weekend texting nonsense back and forth. I'm surprised I learned anything in those classes.
Our first date was Monday. This time I wasn't nervous. I was, however, already cautioning myself. I had never met someone so naturally a fit to my personality. At dinner we easily transitioned from lighthearted, goofy topics, to deeper, more personal ones and back again. There was no awkwardness. I had forgotten my insecurities and "insufficiency".
Monday's date turned into another, then a semi-spontaneous lunch in a park. The park date was my favorite of all of them. He wasn't glossy and perfect that day. He was tired and unshowered. He even seemed a little nervous. I liked the "realness" and the reminder that he is just a normal guy, beautiful, but normal. We ate our sandwiches then walked to the water. On the way back to the table he pulled me close, to dance spontaneously to imaginary music. I stomped all over his feet and wrecked it completely. I hated that the clock moved faster that day than other days. I eventually had to drag myself back to the salon.
We sent a nearly constant stream of texts over the next days and weeks. I spent most of my days and nights laughing, smiling, floating. I tested him, lightly, by telling him a few of the most painful things I struggle with. What did I have to lose? He's leaving. If nothing else, maybe I can get perspective or practice... He handled that like a pro. He was empathetic, kind, gentle, encouraging, accepting.
He was open with me, unlike any man I've ever known. He was extremely familiar too. He struggles with the some of the same things I do; he's come to terms with some of the things I have not, yet. He is like my dad, in all the perfect ways. He has characteristics of my older brother, but is most similar to the younger brother that I have always been closest to. He wears his heart on his sleeve, he has an excellent work ethic, he can be a quiet, gentle, watcher as well as a confident, bold, leader. He is respectful. He continued to impress me with the generosity I saw on the first night. While there are a hundred million things that are "right" with him, he is not shy about sharing his failures. I realize I am getting a full-rounded picture of who he is, for better or worse. I am not used to this, at all, and I find myself craving his honesty about his mild brokenness, while secretly treasuring his humility.
Then, one afternoon he asked for another haircut. Ummmm, sure, I'd love to see him in the middle of the work day... At that appointment he told me he had just bought a plane ticket to leave, earlier than he expected. His job was not over, but he'd be training someone to finish up the final weeks... He didn't have a good reason why, although he gave a few half-hearted attempts at trying to convince me he had to go.
Oh, okay. Of course he would. I already knew he was leaving eventually. The fact was, over the last few days I had done my best to just carefully listen when he told me about some of job possibilities here that he had been presented with. I was holding my breath. I hoped he would want to come back here, for me. I did my best to conceal my heart-crushing disappointment. Somehow, the foolish little girl in me had fallen for the guy she could never have.
I believed that it was ridiculous to think that someone would uproot their entire life and relocate here, for ME. I was determined to let him choose, without persuasion from me. I had just spend the last 15 years making every life changing decision our family was faced with, then being the one "at fault" when people were dissatisfied down the road. No, I couldn't weigh in on Randy's life or choices. I needed him, he was good for me in a million ways. I connected with him emotionally, physically and even spiritually. Now, he seemed to be confirming to me that this "connection" was one-sided. There's no way I could encourage him to come back now.
As the week wound down, I set my mind on attempting to disconnect the heartstrings. I determined that he was good for me, even if I never saw him again, and I was going to make the most of every minute I was allowed with him. The morning he left we hugged and said our "see ya laters". He doesn't like "goodbye", neither do I. As I walked away, I felt peace. I will see that man again, I know it.
October- December 2011
The next days, weeks, and months were bitter-sweet for me. I absolutely felt dizzy and my heart skipped when my phone buzzed with a text. Was it Randy? The texting was usually funny, but sometimes deep. He became a gentle encourager to me. He challenged me in a way that didn't make me feel challenged, but made me want to be better. If this kind of man was possible for me, I was going to have to get some things in me sorted through, healed and made whole. I need to be a woman deserving of a guy like that. I began to realize that I only miss him when I breathe. I could never let him know, I could never handle it if I put myself out there and got rejected, again.
I craved pursuit, but to my fragile heart, pursuit was going to have to be glaringly, wall-crushingly, obvious and by now Randy was starting to be a little mean in his joking. I kept up, quickly responding with insults of my own. I was not about to allow myself to take any of it personal. I felt like he was testing me this time... Push. Pull. Push. Pull.
Finally, I determined one day to end the nonsense. My heart was being bruised and I was the one in charge of that. I pushed. And pushed and pushed. Eventually, there was a phone call... "are you going to let me push you away?" I asked him. "Do you want to?" he asked. "Not really, I hope you don't let me" I responded. "Wellll, you're about to!" Randy then told me he'd be here after the first of the year, If I could just try to "keep my car off the train tracks until then." I laughed, then tempered my emotion. This is too good to be true. Maybe he's messing with me. I can't hope. He has me completely at his mercy, emotionally speaking, and this is new territory for me. I've never felt like this. Is this what love feels like, or is this just what coming alive again after a divorce feels like? I needed to be sure.
In early December I started having wildly specific dreams about Randy. It's hard to explain... they weren't like normal dreams. They always woke me up, heavy-chested, with the desire to physically get out of bed to pray. What was odd, was that I had become resistant to prayer a few years ago. What's the point? God had become a part of the "old Collene's" life and was such a distant memory that when I did pray for Randy the first time, it felt foolish. Even more strange, is that I ACTUALLY got out of bed, in the middle of the night, and knelt on my wood floor. It was cold, uncomfortable and foreign feeling. Why would I do that? I can only explain that the dreams were so compellingly specific, that it's the only response that made sense and allowed me the peace to sleep again. I have decided not to share the specifics of what I "know". That will have to stay between God and I, and Randy if I ever meet him again...
January 2012
I had spent Christmas with my parents in Arizona. My communication with Randy had dwindled to a trickle over the weekend. I knew he was busy skiing with friends and I was busy with family and kids. As usual, I kept up my motto: Don't Be 'That' Girl.
I don't neeeeeeeeed to hear from him. He's a man, doing what he wants, besides if he doesn't want me I'm not going to push myself on him. After the new year came and went, I spent my time mentally preparing for seeing him and half expecting it to be him every time the salon door dinged. I was ridiculously excited. I tried to temper my excitement with the reminder that he hadn't responded to a text in a week. Maybe he lost phone while skiing? It happens. I knew better, though. Something was wrong and I had more "dreams" to confirm that.
The doubter in me was sick of the stupid little girl I was being. "Seriously Collene, you can't love this guy, you barely know him." I knew that I already knew him better, deeper, than I had known my husband on our wedding day. But, if he was going to write me off like that, I wasn't going to sit around and pout.
A friend told me, "Collene if you can be with anyone else, then he's not that special. God's guy is going to be that only option that makes sense to you once you meet him. Is Randy the only one that will do?"
I went on a few dates. In the middle of the last one, I excused myself from the table and got alone to send her a text. "No one else will do, I just want Randy." And, I knew I would never be able to accept less.
Eventually Randy did text. He felt distant. He still joked, but something had changed. We had a phone conversation that felt weird. He was trying to be mean, I sensed discouragement, but he was closed tight, for the first time with me. He told me he was never coming to Montana as long as I live here. I teased him back, but he wasn't teasing. He told me he "never wanted to see my face again". He abruptly ended the call with a "call you right back", but he didn't.
My heart ached. What changed?
A few days later he initiated a text. Nonsense, really. I responded because I knew now that I was hopelessly in love with him. Whatever he was going through, I determined to wait and see...
At the end of January I sent him a text asking to see him when I was in his city the following week, now that he wouldn't be in Montana during that time. He called, we talked for close to an hour. He wouldn't be seeing me. He also said that this would be the last time he ever heard my voice, he just "couldn't" anymore. What. The. Heck?
He sounded so sweet, like the same 'ole Randy I had met before. He was soft and gentle and funny and.. perfect. His words weren't matching his tone or the "chemistry" of the call when, finally, he told me. At Christmas he had run into a girl from his past. He used to like her and now she was available. He had to see where that goes, but he'd probably marry her. Ummmmmm, okay... He also explained that he would be "bad for me" and made a few other stupid statements about why "we would never work". I disagreed with all of them. But a girl can't disagree with "I'll probably marry her".
At the end of the phone call, Randy asked me if I love him. "No", I lied. I sure as hell am not about to throw that word into this stupid conversation. Of course I love him. I've never loved anyone. I love Randy.
February 2012
In his city, I'm unable to cope with my heartbreak. This is something he has to do... I have to step away.
Valentine's Day, the stupidest of days, comes. In the 15 years of my relationship with my ex-husband, combined with the few boyfriends I had prior to marriage, I have never been told "Happy Valentine's Day" by a man, when it wasn't initiated by me. That day Randy sent a text. He wished me a happy Valentine's Day and went on to tell me about the "wonderful person" I am. He was being genuine. It was perfect. Perfectly awful, as I forced my heart to remember he's with her...
March passed with no contact. I thought about the only name from my past that I would imagine would have plan-changing power over me. Would that guy be able to interfere with my feelings for Randy if he were to suddenly become available. Strangely, that guy contacted me a few days later. He wasn't looking for anything except a "how are ya?" My questions were answered, nope, that guy wouldn't do anymore either...
April came, I wished him a happy birthday, no response... April nearly concluded, but not before my Grandpa died. The morning of my birthday was spent at the funeral home helping my grandma pick out music to play at the service. No one had mentioned the day, actually I forgot too. My phone buzzed in my lap, I glanced quickly at it and saw Randy's real name flash on the screen. My heart stopped, I showed my sister. She had no idea who Randy was. Oh, that's right, she's missed a year and a half of my life. He was the first person to remember and acknowledge my birthday on that horrible day. I couldn't stop the lump in my throat from dissolving into a mess of pain-in-my-heart tears. I didn't respond for awhile. Happy birthday? What's happy about losing the best thing I've ever known?
I consoled myself... He has to do this. Maybe God knows better for me. It's hard to imagine a more perfect match for me. I'm open to the idea, but have not even come close to meeting a Randy Lite or a Randy 90% or a Randy 2.0...
In May he initiated again. This time, I am able to see the gist of how it will play out, before it actually does. Day One was sweet, like the beginning. Day Two was a little edgier. The ole push/pull was in full effect. Instinctively, I knew the morning of Day Three, it wouldn't go well. He was downright crabby. Mean. Pushy. He cut me off again. He's "done with me". Okay. I expected that, I remembered January's discussion and his determination to marry her, even before they were really dating. This restlessness and doubt I sense in him is heart wrenching for me, but I can't fix it, and wouldn't if I could. He has to do this.
On May 21st I sent him an email. I had thought all weekend about something he had challenged me with when he was being mean. I was not offended, and completely understood what he was doing. It still required a response. I finally told him I love him. I didn't tell him the ugly, raw, hurting version though. I cleaned it up in a tidy, presentable protective package. He responded with the same, he does love me, he clarified. "It would be ludicrous to forget someone who believes in him the way I do".... we would "always be in touch". Seven days later, he deleted me from his life. No warning, no explanation.
I decided am the biggest fool on the planet. I spent the summer replaying history, trying to convince myself that our physical, emotional, and spiritual connections were completely fabricated by an overly emotional, highly creative, desperately romantic, me. I grasp desperately at my shortcomings and imagine her perfection... Head and heart argue, still, about facts and moments and definitions of "love" while beating me senseless by pointing out my failures specific to this situation.
I've initiated contact since. He confirmed my worst fear, but I already knew: He's marrying the girl he called the "safe choice" back in February. He "never felt anything for me" and "told me from the beginning he wouldn't", he now claims.
Two of my friends brought him up just this week. "We", apparently, made an impression in those few days. They both understand why I can't find anyone else. One friend worries a little, because she and her husband have never had that kind of ease in their relationship. I argue that it couldn't have been anything special. She reminds me: "No, Collene, I saw it myself. You didn't make it up."
My last text to him was a lie. Why not continue the trend? I told him I hate him. I keep trying to make that true. I have nothing but respect for a guy that can put me in my place, gently. I want him, but I do not want what she's getting.
Unfortunately, "...love is patient and kind. It's not jealous or boastful or proud. It's not rude. It doesn't demand its own way...
Who am I to argue with his choice?
"...love is not irritable, it keeps no record of wrongs..."
The girls at work and the few friends that met him have asked me: "what if he came back now, surely you wouldn't want him after all that..." All I can say is: Yes, I would. I understand enough of his "whys"...
"...Love does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices when truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance..."
This is where I struggle the most. If I could change it, I would. I want an end. I dread the reality of being deeply in love with someone else's husband. If this was just in my head, my heart would have moved on months ago. If it was just in my heart, my head would have already drug me forward. My spirit is invested. The burden on my chest, that I can only give credit to God for, the hours of prayers, the depth of insights into his struggles- that doesn't come from my own experience or talent, and the depth of hope I have for him- not to be mine, but to succeed in life- in every way... have all cemented me to this person.
The feeling of assurance I felt that I'd see him again as we hugged our see-ya-laters, haunts me. The hindsight knowledge of my complete and utter failure pertaining to him, tortures me. I was so careful to protect myself and allow him to make his own choices, that I made it impossible for him to see how I felt about him. He asked, in every way possible, without actually spelling it out for me, if he had a shot with me. I never gave him a credible answer. He had just enough energy to knock a few times, when I was expecting him to burst through the door. The gentleman that he is would have never forced himself on me. I got courage way too late, and even then, still tidied it up too much. Soooo, I've learned from my mistakes, I suppose, but I've still lost the gift.
For now, I have no answers. This is messy. I told myself months ago I wouldn't shed another tear for him. I was wrong.
For now, I will trust in what I know. God loves me, unfathomably. He knows the plans He has for me, they are plans to prosper me, not to harm me, plans to give me hope and a future... Jer 29:11
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