Oh there we are decorating the tree, I thought, as I turned up the volume.
The past couple of years I had gotten behind on my home videotape to DVD transference, so I sent them out to a place this time. I’d just picked them up that afternoon and started watching.
It was Christmas 2009. My mom, my daughter, me, my sister and her son were decorating our Christmas tree at my house. After a couple of minutes, I noticed I was talking to someone else off camera. It was Ron*. I kept waiting for him to make an appearance but, in 23 minutes of footage, we never saw so much as an elbow or back of his head. I was annoyed. This was so representative of our relationship. I had dated the invisible man.
I tried for years to get him to settle down. Chased after him while he remained on the run. Avoiding commitment was his full time job. I’m busy. Can’t attend. Have other plans. Can’t make it this time. Talk to you later. I’ve go to go.
It must be me, I thought. Except it wasn’t.
We ended over a year ago and I had thought about the relationship a lot. Acknowledged the part I played. Fixed some things I needed to fix. And I had finally gotten to a place where thinking of him didn’t make me want to scream. I was in a space of indifference. I felt nothing anymore. Unless you count complete certainty that I would never settle again.
We saw eachother the other day and he shared with me how he had fixed the ants in his pants and his need to run. He wanted another chance. But sometimes we just know when too much bad stuff has happened. When there’s a wall there too tall to ever get over. When everything floaty and sweet has hardened like cement barricading you off from the past and you have no choice but to move forward.
And I’m happy moving forward. Sure beats being stuck.
*not his real name