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return to innocence

May 16, 2007

first let me say :: HATED THE SONG (enigma)

. . . naivete’ at its worst . . .

nevertheless, that is exactly what happened.

::

tonight on her blog, my wife posted her recollections of our first encounter after nearly a decade apart. and in that post she expressed a desire that i recount my own recollections here.

it’s funny, actually, because i was planning on writing about how i met my wife the first time, back when she was still in school . . .

but that can wait

(and all the hopeless romantics sighed in protest)

::

my mother is a cancer survivor.

but survivor doesn’t mean you are done with doctors. in fact it usually means a lifetime of them.

so i had gone shopping with her one morning before work, but before we were done she had to get off to a doctor’s appointment across town. i still had time and i worked less than two miles from her house, so while she went off to catch her appointment, i was putting her groceries away.

T is right to say i looked broken down.

i had spent years in prison wishing i had just stayed with her. wishing i had never let her go.

this wasn’t just prison-horny talking.

i’d had a couple years between her leaving and getting myself locked up to try out some other chicks (awful way to put it, i know, but that’s what it amounted to in the end) and i came to realize first hand that i had seperated myself from something very special.

in the year following my release, i didn’t even TRY to hook up with anyone. not that i didn’t have anyone in mind, i just couldn’t rack up the courage.

prison aged me. i had scars. and i was left feeling very insecure.

go without sex long enough and you begin to wonder if you can still do it properly.

but i thought of T often.

i even drove by her parent’s house, hoping to glimpse a set of AZ tags. hoping to glimpse a tall woman standing alone on the front porch.

but i knew she was happily married.

that very morning i had railed at god. i used to yell at god alot. like it was safe or something.

that very morning i’d gotten in god’s face about T.

i yelled (yes, out loud), “you can’t give her back to me!” (never trust a statement that contains any variation of the phrase *god can’t*) “i let her go and you can’t give her back to me!”

(something to that affect)

she is also right about my car. it was more broken than me. on the way back to my mom’s house (she left right from the store to go to her appointment) i blew a tire.

i had to get out of the car, remove the blown tire, replace it with the doughnut, and scramble to get back to her house in time to unload the groceries and get to work.

had i not had the flat i would have been gone when T showed up.

since then, i have often told people that if i’d seen the same plot unfold on the movie of the week i’d have changed the channel and called the writers hacks.

as she said, she pulled up as i was unloading my car. from behind me i heard a smoky voice (she really does have a smoky voice. it’s so coool. even when i can’t see her, she’s sexy) she just said, “hey, stranger”

i turned around and just stared, slackjawed.

her face went from *flinty cheerful* (i really do think she could happily have run over my foot) to harshly disappointed while i stared.

“don’t you remember me?” she finally asked.

still in a daze, i said, “of course i remember you, T.”

something melted in her face at the sound of her name rolling off of my lips. she swears i hugged her then and mumbled innanities about her being real. i don’t recall that part.

for me the next part of the encounter involves her being on her feet, out of the car (still tall as a northern pine 8) ), saying “i’m getting a divorce”

i don’t think she meant to say that, but she said it.

i don’t think i replied, but i do remember that i couldn’t stop grinning.

::

that was the moment i promised myself i wasn’t going to blow this second (thousandth) chance.

it is a matter of some pride to me that i have not.

it is a matter of some awe to me that she gave me that chance in the frist place.

:: reprinted from the archives 

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