Before meeting Adam, the ex who has been calling, I got a poem in my Inbox.
“A.A.’ers talk about the blinding glare of the obvious: Objects in the mirror are actually behind you…”
Yes, I would look behind me. I would be aware of the obvious. My eyes were open.
Thanks to those of you who reminded me to have no expectations. I was going to meet Adam because I was curious, even though my friend Avigail did point out, “Curiosity killed the cat…”
Still, it was Kat Wilder who added:
“The guy is struggling, and for whatever reason, he finds you a sympathetic soul. He’s not asking to sleep with you or to get back together with you, and you’re not expecting to, either … um, right?”
His first words when I walked up to him outside the coffee shop: “Hi cutie.”
My first thought: “Don’t even try to hit on me–”
He stood up and opened his arms.
My shell was hard, but it cracked when he held me. It was his smell. I remembered–
“Don’t go there–” I thought.
We sat down. I thought I was nervous, but he was more anxious for sure.
“I’m really sorry,” he said. “but I forgot my wallet at home. I feel like an idiot. I never forget my wallet. I can’t even buy you a cup–”
“It’s okay!” I said, laughing.
We both knew this wasn’t really about coffee.
He thanked me for meeting him, and then he started to talk. He dove in head first, describing all the people he has lost in his life over the past few years, how painful it has been.
Then he turned away from me. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m really emotional, I’ve been crying–”
For a moment, I thought he was kidding.
He’s one of the best-looking, toughest guys I’ve ever met in my life. He works in law enforcement.
Tears were rolling down his cheeks.
I didn’t know what to say. So, I just sat there, listening, humbled.
The last time I talked to Adam, more than five years ago, I was the vulnerable one. Where were all those walls he had around him? Gone.
His tears didn’t stop.
“I’m really sorry I don’t have any Kleenex,” I said.
Before I left, I told him, “I have some questions. I want to know what happened between us–”
I wanted to understand why he’d let me go as his friend, so easily, so coolly.
We went back to the past, and remembered. He apologized for being so cold to me.
Then he walked me back to my car, and we shared one more hug.
By mid-day, there was a long, open email from him, thanking me.
Now I was feeling vulnerable. But I felt the “caution” tape wrapping around me, with every line I read.
I don’t want to be anyone’s rebound.
I don’t want to rescue any more abandoned souls.
Is anyone else walking around wrapped in “caution” tape?( You should see how tightly it’s wrapped around me right now. Let me breath!)
Who else out there has an exposed heart right now?
Caution from Pro Corbis
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