Fall

As my ability to post has fallen, I thought I'd share some pics of what Ladybug and I have been up to this fall!

Ladybug is 2!!

Well that was a month ago! And my ability to post regularly has not improved!

But I will leave you with a few (okay many) of my favorite pics from her 2nd Birthday Photo Shoot!

God I love this kid!

The day I met my daughter....

Like all the memories you could never forget...the emotions of them take over and details fall through the cracks.

But the feeling, that rush of magic...that rush of a dream come true...the rush of a love...a love so strong I can only relate it to a realm beyond earth.

Okay that's just corny and stupid! I am trying to find the words to express something that really is un-expressible and to do it without sounding like a total wingnut...it is just impossible!

Let's try this again...that rush of a dream come true...the rush of a love...

I will go back through the day as I remember it and hope I can give you a sense of what it is like to meet your daughter for the first time!

I got the "call" on April 15th. I brought my daughter home on April 17th. What happened April 16th I have no clue!! I know Sissy M came over and there was a trip to Babies R Us where we tried to get things we needed and I did something I never thought I would do...I registered! So that day was about getting diapers, bottles, crib sheets, changing pads and anything else we could think of...

April 17th 2014, I had to get to the adoption agency by noon, the foster mom was bringing my daughter to the agency at 1. We had 1 hour's worth of paperwork to fill out.

I knew in my soul that I needed to get the ladybug bracelets for the birth mom and grandma. That was so important to me to make sure they had them.

The store that I needed go to that had the bracelets opened at 10am. It was 20 minutes from my house.

So, the agency at noon which was over an hour away.  My BFF M2 was driving me and she was meeting me at my place at 10:45am.

Get to the store, buy the bracelets, get back by 10:45am because one thing you should know...M2 is ALWAYS ON TIME!!

BFF V is going to drive me to the store to get the bracelets. We don't have one minute to spare and I swear she is driving at the speed of at turtle!!

I get to the store minutes after it has opened and can you f'ing believe it...A LINE!! Apparently at 10am on Thursdays is the day everyone goes out to buy Alex and Ani bracelets! Who knew!

It was an excruciating 10 minutes before I could get my bracelets and then the snails crawl drive back...ughhh...of course BFF M2 is waiting for us.

We hop into her SUV and off we go. Now BFF M2 drives a lot faster so I was happy about that but before we even get into gear, BFF V from the backseat says to me "Don't move. Just don't move" and then says to BBF M2 "Do you have a tissue"

Me: "What! What! What is it??"

V: "Don't move!"

BFF M2 reaches into my hair, grabs something and throws it out her window and says: "I don't know what it was but it didn't start with the letter S"

She knows I am deathly afraid of spiders! And there was one (apparently a big one!) crawling in my hair.

Now we are finally off! And yes, BBF M2 was driving as fast as she could but every turn we took was met by slow drivers, 18 wheelers and dump trucks...it was un-fucking-believable.

And I am literally crawling out of my skin! Not only from the creepy crawler that was crawling in my hair but the anticipation, the stress of the drive, the fear of the unknown and the love that was filling my heart for my little girl...

Would she like me? Will she be scared? Will she cry? Will I be able to comfort her? (I still have these fears!)

We finally pull up to the agency. It's 12:30! My mom is already there and we are taken into a back conference room to go over all the paper work! My friends wait outside.

Let me tell you something folks...you have no idea what is a lot of paper work until you go through adoption...

Every piece of paper that needed to be signed was stacked in front of me and it felt like the stack NEVER went down!

I'm looking at the clock and then back at the stack, then at my mom, then at the social workers who are painfully going over every detail of every piece of paper...literally reading every word! Then back at the clock, my mom, the social workers, the papers...

1 o'clock has come and gone. It's now 1:15...1:20...1:30 and I know my daughter is here waiting...

At one point my mom had to run out to go to the bathroom, her excitement and anticipation was so great! She didn't want to hold anything up so she is rushing back not realizing she has buttoned and zipped the bottom of her shirt into her jeans!

Finally I am done with all the paperwork and I am taken into that small, little room that houses that small, little rocking chair with the afghan thrown over its back. I wonder how many adoptive parents sat in this chair before me creating their family!  And how many after...

Next to the rocking chair on a desk is mine and Ladybug's name spelled out in children's blocks with the date 4/17/14 and Congratulations! (I still have those blocks!)

FINALLY! FINALLY! FINALLY! Patricia the social worker brings my Ladybug in...and within moments Ladybug reaches her arms out to me. I pull her close and I knew in that moment that I would never let her go...forever!

And what's happened since that day...since  April 17th 2014! Here's a little snapshot!

One Year Together

The first time ever I saw your face...

I had just finished a brutal WOD (for non-Crossfiters that's Workout of the Day!)

My face was red, my hair was wet and I was standing at the front desk getting ready to sign up for a year's worth of WOD's at this Crossfit gym.

Little did I know that day, when I was running 400 meters carrying 25lbs followed by push-ups, sit-up, squats and God knows what other torture they threw at me that day, little did I know that it was my last day of torture. My last WOD (for now).

I didn't know...I had no clue.

Wallet out...ready to join...

I knew the owner from party days gone by! Funny how that happens. He used to date one of my girlfriend's.

He was asking me if I liked the workout and I was making a joke about being able to tell from my cherry red face when my phone rang...

No caller ID, 609 area code...hmmm...who the hell is this? 

My mom and sister are in the 609 area code...but they would come up on the ID? Maybe they are calling from somewhere else??

No clue...

"Ryan, I've got to take this. I'll be right back"

I walked outside to take that call and Ryan never saw me again!

Every moment of that day has transformed into a slow motion movie that keeps replaying in my mind.

One year later I can't get over the fact that this has happened to me! That Ladybug and I are a forever family.

That day I drove to my adoption agency to meet Ladybug's birth mom and grandma.

And although every moment of this movie that plays out in my head is monumental, there is one moment frozen in time...

While waiting for them to get to the agency for our meeting, the social worker handed me her cell phone with these pictures on it:

It was truly love at first sight! I knew in my heart of hearts that she was my daughter...my forever daughter...

April 15, 2014 - The first time ever I saw your face! Mommy loves you!! Mommy loves that face!!

The rush of childhood..

One day it just happens...your childhood becomes the past...the distant past... it's  not like "poof" and it happens  all at once. No. it's been  happening all along. With each passing year you feel it's presence diminishing...like watching scenery in your rear-view mirror it just keeps getting further and further away.

But when you are younger, you don't even realize that it's happening. You certainly have no sense of it in your teens or even your twenties...your too busy looking forward...but as you get older or in the event of a loss...then one day, all of the sudden you realize that all those images that have been moving further and further  away have in essence vanished.

They're gone...

And you miss them...everything in the rear view mirror becomes blurry.

It's not so much that you miss being young and that you reject the inevitable fact of age in life.

No... I enjoy aging (well most of it). I actually like being older.

It's the people, the places, the smells, the scenery that at one time was being viewed from front and center...from up close...

I think that's why my last trip to see my aunt, knowing that this was truly the last trip...she was passing...was one of flashing images of a time gone by and slow motion movies from my childhood.

It was a long trip to go see her...12 hours in the car...and with each passing mile the scenery filled my mind with those flashes, images and movies.

I can't say I remember every moment with her because some are so far away they become just a feeling...an emotion...a sense of comfort or roar of laughter...not the actual event.

Other moments flash...I hear her boisterous laugh...see the room, her face, her smile...I see me small, vulnerable and in awe...

My aunt liked to "hoot" and "holler" and that small, vulnerable me...looked at her wide eyed.

My aunt liked to be "hip"...the "cool" aunt. One you could go to and talk about anything and she would tell you what you needed to hear not what you wanted to hear. I can still see the teen and young adult me looking at her with admiration. And the more recent me...the broken from infertility me sharing a knowing smile with my aunt when she met my Ladybug and she declares: "You were a a mess!" Yes I was aunt Nancy...yes I was...

Some of these images bring comfort...like being so little and sitting on her lap on a porch swing watching the lightening...or her lowering a rope to pull me up so I could sit in front of her on her beloved horse for a ride.

Some bring laughter...like the time my older sisters told me to say "mother fucker" and I ran around my aunt's back yard saying "mother fucker!" "mother fucker!" "mother fucker!"

My aunt immediately brought me inside and rinsed my mouth out with soap.  I kept crying "But Sissy M and Sissy L told me to say it!"

My aunt's reply: "Well now you learned 2 lessons! Don't ever say that word and don't listen to your sisters!"

And it's my time now...

It's my turn.  I am the aunt! I am the mom! I need to take these years and be the childhood that my aunt Nancy was for me and be that for my nieces, nephews and most of all for my daughter.

But you miss it...you miss those times...

And it's not that you don't want to grow up and have those things with your own kids...it's just that you want to keep your childhood close too!

You want porch swings and rocking chairs and thunderstorms. You want to sit on  your aunt's lap and watch the lightening...you don't want it to be distant images fading from view...

My aunt passed away and now there's a little less boisterous laughing, hooting and hollering here on earth but I am sure she will be livening up the place in heaven.

I know there should be some moment when I tell the world what she meant to me. The lessons she taught...her words of wisdom...make this sweeping, elegant statement about her but I can't think of anything!! Just a rush of emotion.

I love you aunt Nancy! The only thing I can think of that could remotely come close to describing what my aunt meant to me is "childhood" and all the beauty that a childhood should bring.

That rush of childhood coming back into view.

It's the most wonderful time of the year...Part II...

Part I - December 2011

Just a few weeks after my second miscarriage.

My grief was insurmountable.

In that post, I summed up my grief: "...every moment feels like you are walking through quicksand. The days fly by at such an alarmingly slow pace but they will be here and gone before you know it."

I think I'm at a loss for words to describe where I am today...

Christmas Eve 2014

I see those words...those words of Christmas past... and I am speechless...wordless...

Trust me this isn't going to be one of those self absorbed, self stroking posts about..."How if I could only go back and shake the me then and tell her it's all going to be okay..."  Blah! Blah! Bullshit....

I know that there are so many out there who can't breathe right now and the holidays...the most wonderful time of the year...makes it worse. Makes it nearly impossible to even get up and face the cheer.

So no, this isn't one of those posts about how: "If I could only see into the future I would change the way I felt then"

Because there is no way, at that time, I could have foreseen this...

This freaking miracle...

And really...who the hell could!!

Because to be completely honest...I...AM...ONE...LUCKY... MOTHER FER.....!

There is no doubt in my mind that I could easily be sitting in the same grief of 2011...2012...2013 and of course the many years before that...

I do not know what I did to deserve this twist of fate that brought me my daughter...

It's perfect orchestration...how could one predict that!

I pray every day to be worthy of it...

And the only words that seem to come to me is...redemption...it feels like redemption...

And isn't that fitting for the season!

Those deep, dark moments when I felt like my whole life was a mistake...

Like there were no words to describe its purpose...

Or wait maybe there are words...

The words I never thought I would speak...

The words that every day take my breath away and are the reason I breathe...

The words...

"My daughter"

Every day I get to say those words and it is like Christmas!

To those still waiting to say those words...

To those still living with the ghost of Christmas Past or Christmas Present...

I can't tell how to make it better...or what to do to change it...all I can say is hold on...and even that isn't good enough...I know! I've been there!

But I do pray that someday you find your redemption...that you find your Merry Christmas!

Because there are no word to express it when it happens...there's nothing else like it.

It is the true meaning of Christmas...

I pray you find your Merry Christmas!

Broken too...

When I bought my condo back in 2006, all I could barely afford was a one bedroom. The condo is great. Very spacious for a one bedroom but it's a one bedroom.

Of course now my one bedroom is worth a studio and I could get a two bedroom for just about what I paid for my one bedroom...

Ughhh...and yikes...but really it doesn't matter...the tides will change again and I LOVE my condo.  I have no plans for moving...well at least for 5 years...

When I decided that I was going to take motherhood into my own hands, the plan was to turn my dining room/office into the nursery.

About three months before I got "the call"...feeling at my lowest...feeling that motherhood had slipped through my hands...I decided to put that plan into action. I put up a wall and created a nursery.

I felt that..."If I build it...they will come!"

And still to my amazement it worked!! She came and took up residency!!!

My little Ladybug has the cutest nursery! (if I do say so myself)...

But in order to make the world's cutest nursery I had to move some things around...and that included my office and two antique bookcases.  Those bookcases are treasured possessions from my Grandma H who passed away in 2008.

These bookcases were moved to either side of my living room closet.

On these bookcase not only does it house books but it is the home to some of my most treasured items...ahhhh why wasn't piggy bank up there...I'm not sure why but for some reason piggy bank was always living in my entertainment center.

But on the bookcases...pictures of family...pictures on me with my best friends...dolls...nick nacks...glass figurines and a large round, hand painted ceramic of the astrological sign of Virgo...

The astrological sign of Virgo...my sign.

The hand painted ceramic of the astrological sign of Virgo was hand painted by me when I was little. I was with my father when I painted it. It's one of the very few memories I have...painting that ceramic...

That ceramic...like piggy bank...served as my memories and has been with me for over 30 years.

About a week ago sissy L was over helping me clean out the closet the lies in between the two bookcases.

Barely tapping the bookcase with the closet door...out of all the items living on those shelves...my hand painted ceramic of the astrological sign of Virgo found a way to propel itself off the bookcase and break....

It didn't shattered...which I am happy about...but there are a couple of chunks missing that I will have to paint over...it can't be glued like piggy bank...but it is salvageable...

When it happened I thought "Figures! Doesn't that fucking figure! Of all the things!"

I wasn't mad at sissy L...she barely tapped it...And I wasn't tormented by the sight of it broken...

I was eerily quiet and had a disturbing feeling...

I knew it was an omen...

Almost like the voice that told me right before my 2nd miscarriage: "You won't be pregnant in the summer." Predicting the end of my cherished pregnancy...

This voice said: "You're dad's going to die."

I didn't say this to sissy L.

I cleaned it up and we went about our day.

We went about our days...

I couldn't (and still can't) get the image of these broken items out of my head...broken but fixed...but yet still broken...

I feel like piggy bank...I'm broken but I've been glued back together...

I'm broken because I don't have a relation with my dad. I had one and then it was gone and that has broken me...

There will always be a part of me that is broken but over time with the love of my family and friends those broken pieces have been glued back together.

You might not see the cracks just by looking at me...

You might not know I've been glued back together...but in the end the reality is...I am broken...

A few days after Virgo took a header off the bookcase I received news that my father...my dad...due to injuries from his accident...wasn't going to make it...

He was being taken off all life support...

My step mother and step siblings set it up in the hospital so that my sisters and I would Skype in and say goodbye.

I cannot thank them enough for giving me the opportunity to do so...

I'm going to be honest...deathbed Skyping is something that should NEVER be trending.

It's beyond my vocabulary to describe how hard that was...how sad...how sweet...how moving...how traumatizing...how heartbreaking...

My sisters and I Skyped in...we said hello to our "step" family...my dad's family...

We laughed...we joked...we cried...we said our goodbyes...we expressed our gratitude...

The doctor came in...explained the situation...said amazing things about my dad...and then proceeded...

We waited...

Stories... tears...waiting...songs...my step brother sang a beautiful song to my dad...

It was obvious this was a song they all knew...I didn't know it...but it was beautiful...

Then in one moment...my step sister utter the words: "Daddy".

And suddenly I felt like an intruder...

Some kind of weird peeping Tom...I knew it was time to go...he was her daddy...he was their daddy...

He spent every day with them...Christmas mornings and Easter Sundays...

My Christmas mornings were over a long time ago...he wasn't my daddy anymore and he hadn't been for 30 years.

It was in that moment it became painfully clear that I wasn't ever going to be daddy's little girl...

My cracks were showing...

I ended the Skype...

Later that night little Ladybug woke up crying...she NEVER wakes up crying...this kid can sleep!!

As I was comforting her...I knew deep down that she is broken too...it's something I've always known...and her cracks will be deeper than mine...

I told her:

"I can't take it away baby. I wish I could but I can't take it away. I just pray that I am enough glue to hold those cracks together."

She quieted down and we cuddled together...

Sometime in those moments...my father passed away.

Ladybug

Riding on the dashboard of my car is a Ladybug.  A stuffed Ladybug that sits there and watches over me as I drive.

A stuffed Ladybug who's once black hair has now turned blonde from the beams of sun shining through my car windshield for almost 20 years!

In 1998 for my 30th birthday (yea, y'all can stop doing the math! I'm no spring chicken!) I was finally able to buy myself my dream car! (and yes this Jersey girl can say y'all sometimes too!! I have southern relatives! and some southern roots!)

For my 30th I bought a 1994 Ford Mustang GT convertible with "5 on the floor" - that's a manual 5 speed transmission for those of you who were wondering what "5 on the floor meant" - a stick shift!

I am a firm believer that a Mustang should be 8 cylinders with a manual transmission.  Those who get a Mustang in a 6 cylinder and an automatic are missing the beauty of this classic muscle car! Ford shouldn't even indulge the pansy ass public by making the Mustang in a 6 cylinder automatic! To me it's sacrilege!

So in 1998 for my 30th birthday, I bought myself the car of my dreams in red of course!  My favorite color.  And to christen my beautiful car, I bought a black and red stuffed Ladybug and placed in the windshield. Ladybug has been my good luck charm, my protector, my travel companion, my safe journey as I gallivanted as far as my 5 speeds would take me.

And there on the dashboard of my dream car Ladybug stayed until 2008 when I sold my dream car and bought a new car, a Chevy HHR. I know a far cry from my beloved Mustang but I love this car too! And of course it is red and a stick shift. There are two mandatory things I need when buying a car: it has to be red and it has to be a 5 speed (well of course a 6 speed would do too!)

Ladybug fit in perfectly with my new car and there she sits to this day being my good luck charm, my protector, my travel companion, my safe journey.

On the day I got the call...tax day...there was Ladybug sitting on my dashboard, watching over me as I drove to my adoption agency.

My mom was meeting me there and then we were going to meet the birth mom and the grandmother together.

We met with the social workers first.

I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know how this was going to go...I mean really is there a precedent? Is there any way to prepare for something like this?

At first we went over formalities,  then the social workers painted the picture of when the birth mom and the grandmother saw my profile and how they felt such a strong connection.

And now it was time to meet them...once again I wasn't sure what to expect...and I was scared...would I live up to this strong connection...

As they walked through the door...I felt like I was watching a movie...a movie that I didn't know how it was going to end...

The grandmother walked in. She came right over to me and said: "I feel like I want to hug you!"

I said: "Oh please do!"

And we hugged...we hugged as if we knew each other from a time gone past...

The birth mom was carrying something and reached out to hand it to me.

I was an Easter basket with bunny ears in it. But this basket wasn't weaved or in the shape of a bunny...

No this basket was black and red and in the shape of a...

Ladybug!

As the meeting progress, they told me of all the things that connected them to me...I felt a familiarity that is unexplainable...I studied them...I knew them...they were so familiar...and yes there was a strong connection and things that were just (add a sigh in here!)...things that were just kismet...for lack of a better word...that's the only way I can explain it.

I didn't mention Ladybug to them. Even after we started talking about all the amazing connections...for some reason I kept Ladybug to myself...until...until...

Until the day I picked up my daughter...

I gave the social workers two charm bracelets. One for the birth mom and one for the grandmother...

Two charm bracelets with a single charm on it...

a Ladybug...

I know they know...

And I want them to know that right now...sleeping safely in her crib...is our little Ladybug!

Just an ordinary day...sort of...

April 15th 2014

Tax day!

My taxes were already done. I did them a few weeks earlier and thankfully I didn't owe. Whew! Always good news.

So for me April 15th 2014 started out like any other day...sort of...

The day before tax day, Sissy L sent me a text message asking if I could bring her to the doctors in the afternoon, the afternoon of April 15th.

That meant I had to take off work.

I really wasn't happy about taking off work, but I have vacation days available and that night (dreaded tax day night) I had a big test at school...plus my sister needed help...so I took off from work.

Later that evening...the night before April 15th...Sissy L calls me and says she doesn't need me to drive her anymore...BUT I had already taken off from work.

I was annoyed.

I decided I would take the day off anyway...go to a Crossfit class in the morning and then study all day before my test at night.

So on April 15th 2014, I woke up and started my day...just an ordinary day...

I went to Crossfit. It was a killer class (I LOVE Crossfit!)

After class, I was talking to one of the owners of the gym when my cell phone rang.

I didn't recognize the number.  At first I thought it was business related. Possibly website issues that I wasn't in the mood to deal with...so I answered the phone the way I always answer it when I don't know who it is:

"Michaela speaking"

"Hi Michaela, this is Danielle from the Children's Home Society"

To be honest, I was slightly confused. This was my adoption agency calling but Danielle is not my social worker. Angie is. And with it being tax day and all...I thought they were calling for some financial paperwork I still owed them...but I mean come on...can't a girl have a few days after tax day to get her tax info in!

"Oh Hi, where's Angie?"

"She's on vacation. Can I put you on speaker phone?"

Speaker phone? I was completely confused and not at all prepared for what happened next.

"Sure"

"Great. I have Patricia here and we both just wanted to say...Hi Mom!"

I didn't understand what they were saying...and then it hit me...I'm placed!!

At approximately 10:30 am on April 15th 2014 I became a mom.

Danielle and Patricia went on to tell me that a birth mom and the grandma picked me to be placed with a beautiful 9 month old little girl.

And they wanted me to meet the birth mother and grandma that day...at 3:15...in less than 4 hours...

I think the first thing I said (who knows why!) is: "I have a big test tonight! I have to call my professor!"

Followed by: "I have to call my mom! I have to call my mom!"

I couldn't speak. I couldn't form sentences!

Then Patricia said something to me that will forever stay in my heart...she said...

"Michaela breathe! They don't want to meet you to decide if they want you. They have already decided you are the one. They want to meet you to share in your joy!"

Every time I think of that and every time I think of my meeting with these amazing women I feel a love, a bond, an undeniable, unexplainable connection...

Meeting them has changed me forever...in that meeting they told me that as soon as they saw my profile they knew I was meant to be this little girl's forever mommy...

Two days later on April 17th 2014 I brought my daughter home.

I am a mommy!

I am her forever mommy!

Walking the mile Part II...

There are roads we must take.

Paths that we must follow.

Some are by choice, some by chance and some because we have no choice.

Those are the hardest to walk.

The ones where you have no choice.

There is power in choice...but when it has been taken out of your hands...when you have no choice...you have no power...

That's when you crawl.

That's when the slightest movement forward has drained you of all you have.

I will tell you this...right now I am barely crawling.

And although I said I wasn't going to give Mr. Selleck any more billing here I have to...

What he did to me is what keeps me crawling...I must work on standing...

His actions, his words, his betrayal, his lies...have all but crushed me to the ground.

And as I use every last bit of strength I have to move one inch...

It makes me wonder how my actions may have caused others to walk miles they didn't want to...

And it makes me wonder how my actions may have been detrimental to their ability to walk...

Causing them to crawl...

No one wants to be responsible for the pain and suffering of others...but when it comes to the matters of the heart is there really any way to avoid that?

What Mr. Selleck did was extreme...and I keep thinking about my behavior in the past that may have warranted such harsh retribution...

This isn't the first time I have had thoughts like this...I have many times wondered if at certain times in my life, even though I was truly sorry, if at those certain times when my actions weren't of the utmost moral standards, if due to those times my karmic debt still hasn't been paid.

And I know this sounds weird but this is a character flaw of mine...being too sensitive and too hard on myself...because I think deep down inside I have this notion that somehow I must have done something to deserve it...

The same with my infertility and miscarriages...I feel that somehow I deserve it and I just want my debt paid...

So relationship wise...do I feel that I deserve what Mr. Selleck did to me?

I think if I am going to figure this out, honesty is a good place to start.

The most important person that I have to be honest with is myself.

About two years ago on Facebook I received a friend request.

That request was from the guy in college that I had "the affair" with when I was still in a relationship with my High School Sweetheart.

That request made me pause...pause and think...think back to a time, a time where I wasn't as loyal and faithful as I should have been.

A time where I was learning what kind of person I wanted to be but maybe not always practicing those traits or making the best choices.

It made me reflect. Reflect on everything that happened back then...

It's amazing how much you don't remember!

And amazing how much you do...

Funny, I remember where he lived and what his place looked like from back in time...

There have been many times over the years when I drove into that area, I would purposely turn up his old street just to drive past his old place...

And I remember when I told him that I was ending the affair.

He was standing at my front door and I was explaining how my High School Sweetheart loved me and I wasn't going to leave my High School Sweetheart.

As I went to shut the door in an act of finality, he pushed it back open and said: "He loves you...I love you!"

Was that the moment when I couldn't make sense of my feelings...when I couldn't make sense of his feeling or my High School Sweetheart's feelings...

The moment where I realized what I had done...to all of us...

The moment when I knew I had to walk away??

I don't know...

See after that I don't really remember that much...

Except that one day...I think months later...he showed up at my work.

By that time I was with my sailor and I am not even sure how the conversation went...

I feel horrible that I can't remember what I said...

Was I mean? Was I compassionate? Did I apologize?

Maybe that's what this is all about...me wanting to apologize...to tell him that although I had strong feeling for him, there was no way I could have loved him because I didn't love myself. Because I was too busy hating myself for what I had done...and he was a part of that mess...that mess I had to clean up and move on from...

But seriously some 20 plus years later...do I even own him an apology?

The answer is: "No". I don't owe him an apology. I don't owe him a damn thing.  He knew I was with someone else and he pursued me anyway. Unlike Mr. Selleck who played on my every hope and dream, whose lies and deception were hidden by songs of I love you...I never made him promises that I was going to leave my High School Sweetheart  for him and I never made him promises of love...

BUT yes, what I know now, a lesson that I painfully learned back then is that it was my job to say "No thank you" to him when he made those advances and I didn't. I didn't and that in turn only caused pain for all those involved: myself included.

So no I don't owe him an apology.

So why? Why think about? Is this because Mr. Selleck came along and trounced on my heart?

No this has been on my mind for a lot longer than Mr. Selleck...

No this is something that has gone in and out of my conscious for 20 plus years... that moved to the forefront with a simple friend request.

My feelings of having done something to deserve all the pain that I have been through has compelled me to revisit the past...to revisit him...to tell him it was nothing he had done to deserve the mess that I made when I gave in to his advances...

Maybe it's me trying to release the ghost...

And maybe, yes, there is a part of me that wants to apologize...not because I think I owe him an apology but because I am sorry and it would be something I would like to hear...and really isn't that how you move forward and release the ghost??

By acknowledging it's presence...accepting your part in its creation...and saying I'm sorry...

So relationship wise...from my past...do I feel that I deserve what Mr. Selleck did to me?

No!

There is nothing I have done in the past that made me deserve the heartache that Mr. Selleck has caused me...

There is nothing I have done in the past that makes me deserve that heartache of infertility and miscarriages.

So as I am forced onto this path...

As I am learning to stand...

As I walk my mile...

Maybe by accepting the fact that I did nothing to deserve this and truly believing it in my heart...

Then maybe at the end of my mile there won't be an electric chair...

Just a tiny ray of redemption...

Maybe I'm Amazed Part I

When Mr. Selleck was standing outside my door on New Years Day, I had no idea what was going to happen with us but by the end of the night I was certain we were in it for the long haul...oh how wrong I was!

Now I'll be perfectly honest, I am not even sure what he said or what I said when he first came in.

I think I ran to hide my vibrator...

I know he said something about it being hard to love him...really!?...what a bunch of self indulgent, self stroking crap!

But trust me I wasn't thinking that at the time. To be honest I have no idea what I was thinking...probably because I wasn't thinking...my heart was in control.

I know we talked about New Years Eve. I was very upset about New Years Eve.

He told me he ended up going over his ex's...now I know this sounds bad but it wasn't his recent ex. This was the ex he had his daughter with and they have been broken up for 13 years.

Plus she has a boyfriend, who was there.

It wasn't the fact he went there that bothered me. He actually goes there all the time. His daughter lives there.

It was the fact that he didn't spend New Years Eve with me.

Then he goes on to tell me that he behaved poorly there! He drank too much and made a scene.

NOT GOOD.

But everything I questioned...

Everything I asked....

He apologized and reassured me COMPLETELY.

He was 100% with me!

His "I love you's" were non-stop.

He kept telling me over and over how much he loved me. How much he needed me and how I was his best friend.

He would say just that: "I love you! You know that right! I love you. You are my best friend".

Over and over again he would say it:

"I love you! You are my best friend."

He would take my hand and hold it...repeat "I love you...you know that...you are my best friend...you know that..."

Stroke my face...and repeat "I love you...you know that...you are my best friend...you know that..."

Examine my face...kiss me..."I love you...you know that...you are my best friend...you know that..."

And he sang to me...

The song he kept signing: "Maybe I'm Amazed"

It was beautiful.

It was close.

It was intimate.

We talked...I questioned it happening again...him needing space.

He said: "This time next year we will see how many times it's happened...zero!"

He brought up marriage again and Vegas.

We started planning a trip "to some place warm".

It was all future tense.

It was all us!

And as far as New Years Eve went...we had it out...

He was really upset about getting drunk at his ex's and he was wondering how to handle it with his daughter.

So I told him that on my end I would let him off the hook for New Years.

And I did let him off the hook.

He even went as far as calling his ex and telling her that he would be coming over...coming over with me. That we would pick up his daughter and take her out to dinner. I could hear the whole phone conversation he was having with his ex and his daughter, how he was including me in the plans.

I told him that I felt that maybe he should go alone and he said no. "I want you with me. I need you with me." and so I said I would go with him.

Those plans never came about.

2 days later at 7 am in the morning Mr. Selleck declared that he needed his space again.

His exact words: "Oh yeah. I'm going to need some space again and that includes seeing other people."

Just like that!

"Oh yeah. I'm going to need some space again and that includes seeing other people."

I was in shock!

I was amazed!

"You're telling me this now at 7am when I have to go to work!"

His reply: "There's never a good time to say it."

I think I wanted to punch him but I was in too much shock to form sentences never mind throw a punch.

The sentences I was trying to form were coming out all jumbled...

"How could you...after this last week...the I love you...the best friend..."

His response: "I was in a very emotional place and needed you."

*So you used me and now tossing me to the side?!? - of course this was something I didn't say...

I wish I wasn't in such shock. I felt like I couldn't breathe...struggling to keep my head above water and Mr. Selleck kept pushing me under...

There was no clarity in the moment. Everything was so surreal. Like he was this stranger standing in front of me saying: "But I still want to see you!"

He still wanted to see me (yeah right! douche bag!).

He said: "I know you don't do that but I want you to think about it. Think about it. Consider it. I'll come over tonight (it was our Wednesday) and we'll talk about it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing!

Oh yes...I was amazed!

The last sentence I did form, my last words to him as he walked out the door were very clear:

"You know this is over right!".

That is the last time I saw Mr. Selleck.

I text him later that day and told him not to come over. There was nothing left to say...

Maybe I'm amazed at how quickly his feelings changed.

Maybe I'm amazed at how casual and nonchalant he was about it all.

Maybe I'm amazed at how little his words "I love you" meant.

Maybe I'm amazed that I was in bed with a total stranger and never noticed.

There are so many things that I am amazed about what happened, but I guess the one that gets me the most is I am amazed at how much this hurts.

Because if there was one thing that I thought I got out of the last four years of struggling it was that I've become immune to hurt...

The healing powers of a Stromboli!

When Mr. Selleck text me that he need some alone time...I was concerned...but I didn't think it meant we were breaking up. All I thought was that he was pulling his crap again and it would blow over.

He had told me he wasn't feeling well a few days before. Sometimes this happens to him where he gets dizzy and vertigo. It stems from the fact that he's had Lyme disease three times.

His text was matter of fact: "Hey, you're right I haven't been myself. I have been feeling dizzy, anxious and depressed. I'm just regrouping that's all."

Okay...no biggie right....

Right?

The words of the physic were ringing in my head:

"He will need to "go off" on his own sometimes...have these little "trips" ...Don't worry...Give that to him...He is with you 100%!"

Right!

And it was fine for the first day...

the second day...

We were texting but he sometimes wouldn't respond for hours and that was driving me nuts.

New Years Eve was approaching and his delayed responses were now not only driving me nuts but pissing me off.

It wasn't nice...it wasn't fair and actually it was down and out rude!

I was being the most understanding, patient, compassionate person and he was treating me rude!

Flat out rude! And of course I let him know it was rude!

He text me asking me not to be upset. Saying how much he cared...blah...blah...

All I wanted to know was about our plans for New Years Eve.

I gave him the out. I told him we didn't have to go to my friend's house for New Years. We could stay home. I just wanted to spend it with him...

He text me to go alone.

I was crushed.

I want a boyfriend who would do anything to be with me...and Mr. Selleck...Mr. Selleck just told me to go alone...

And I did...go alone...

And I had a great time!

And I drank too much which led to me sending a drunk text to Mr. Selleck and then passing out.

I woke up in the morning to a text from Mr. Selleck: "Happy 2014 babe...let me know when you get home"

I was Hung Over! (with a capital H and a capital O).

I didn't go home until later that afternoon and I waited an hour to text him I was home.

He didn't respond!

Confusion and a hangover led me to make one decision...

I needed a Stromboli.

Right now the only thing that would cure this hangover was a Stromboli.

I placed my order for my Stromboli. I couldn't wait for my Stromboli to get there! I needed it's magical powers.

But I did have some time to kill so I decided it was a good time for a little "me alone" time...wink...wink...

Basically I decided to pleasure myself while I was waiting for my Stromboli...hey don't judge...I hadn't seen Mr. Selleck in 4 days and I am a woman in my 40s...which basically means that I now have the sex drive of a 18 year old boy...a constant (and I mean constant!) desire ;)

Plus I had 40 minutes to kill...or so I thought...

Just as things were getting good the doorbell rang!

Wow my Stromboli came quick!

I ran with excitement...et um...not that kind of excitement...to the door to get my Stromboli.

I am sure my face was flush...yes from that kind of excitement...but I didn't care...I needed the hangover healing powers of a Stromboli more than I needed to finish what I had started...

I ran down the stairs, flung the door open and there stood Mr. Selleck...

A wave of disappointment came over my face as I said: "Oh...I thought you were my Stromboli"

Then I asked him the question I was wondering for the last 4 days: "Are we breaking up?"

His reply: "I don't think so...can I come in?"

"Sure. But I'd rather have my Stromboli!"

Mr. Selleck came in...and didn't leave for 6 days.

My Stromboli also came...I shared it with Mr. Selleck.

It cured my hangover and things between me and Mr. Selleck.

In the 6 days that me and Mr. Selleck were holed up in my condo, we didn't get dressed for 2 days.

2 full days of nothing but nakedness, sex, kissing, sleep, talking and cuddling...tons of talking and tons of cuddling.

On the 3rd day, when the snow finally stopped, we finally took a shower, put clothes on and went out to get food and alcohol.

We stopped at the local pizza place where I always get my pizza and of course my Stromboli but this time instead we got a calzone.

Maybe that's where we went wrong....

Calzones just don't have the healing power that Stromboli's do!

Because by the 7th day...Mr. Selleck and I ended our relationship...for good this time...and there isn't a Stromboli big enough...

Tom Hanks...oh so predictable!

To say everything was "the way it should be" with Mr. Selleck or "perfect" would be a lie.

The truth is I didn't know exactly how things were between Mr. Selleck and I.

It seemed like we were "back together".

But we never really discussed what "We'll work it out" entailed.

And I was afraid to ask.

Which is really crazy considering I am a "tell it like it is" kinda a gal and I usually have no problem with getting to the bottom of things.

I guess I didn't want to know the answer.

I just wanted me and Mr. Selleck to be amazing...the amazing I knew we could be...the amazing we should be...

So I didn't ask.

But there was one thing I did that I probably shouldn't have...

When I had made my decision to break up with Mr. Selleck I went back to tried and true...I text Tom Hanks.

Tom Hanks was a guy that I went on one date with after the first time Mr. Selleck and I broke up.

He was safe, he was reliable...he just didn't give me butterflies....

He wasn't my Mr. Selleck....BUT...we had a good first date and I thought if Mr. Selleck was out texting other women maybe I should see what's out there for me...

I did not tell Mr. Selleck any of this...

Did I do it so I could feel a release on the grip Mr. Selleck had over me...I don't know...did I do it because deep down inside I still felt like that abandoned little girl who learned that leaving first hurts less...I don't know...was I trying to walk away...I don't know...but whatever the reason...if any were the case, it back fired.

After another date with Tom Hanks. A good date. We said goodbye at the car with a little peck on the lips...I got in my car and proceeded to cry the whole way home...I mean sob!

I don't know what it was that triggered it.

The peck on the lips Tom Hanks gave me?

All I know is it wasn't what I wanted. This might be what Mr. Selleck wanted...nothing too big...nothing serious...but it wasn't what I wanted.

All I wanted was Mr. Selleck.

But not at the expense of me.

This...this...whatever this was...it was not working out.

It's not who I am.

And I learned that a long time ago.

It was the week before Christmas and Mr. Selleck and I were spending another amazing night that consisted of too much talking, too much wine and too much sex.

He started asking me what I wanted.

"What do you want?"

I replied: "What do you want?"

I really didn't want to play this game.

I wasn't sure where he was going with this...

So I responded: "I don't want to be dating"

He was surprised: "You've been dating?"

And I was confused...did he now what something "serious"...something bigger...

"Two dates.  I'm trying to give you what you want."

Quietly he said: "I don't want you dating."

I ended the conversation with: "Well then, I guess we have figured out what you don't want."

And started our love making on the living room couch.

The very next night while sitting on that same couch watching TV, Mr. Selleck blurts out: "We should get hitched!"

Now, one could say that his outburst could be caused by the fact that Mr. Selleck and I had a habit of too much talking, too much wine and too much sex but this was before the ritual had even begun...

But this time...this time...instead of contemplating the validity of his words, I turned and with a slight smile said:

"Don't worry baby, I'll let you back pedal out of that one!"

I never saw Tom Hanks again. I feel bad about that.

But I was certain Mr. Selleck and I were moving off of shaky ground.

We both had family plans for Christmas but planned on spending the night before Christmas Eve together as "our" Christmas.

And we made New Years Eve plans.

We were moving off of shaky ground...but on to what?

On "our" Christmas, Mr. Selleck and I were supposed to exchange Christmas presents.  When he showed up he told me my present was at his house. He said it was too big to bring and something he put a lot of thought into...I couldn't wait to see what it was.

But I never did get to see what my Christmas present was...

Even though we had "our" Christmas, Mr. Selleck insisted that he wanted to see me Christmas night too. Of course I took that as a good sign in our relationship. We met late at night at my place.

The morning after Christmas, Mr. Selleck left my bed in a hurry...eerily in a hurry...our love making was in a hurry too (really this time it was more like fucking and not the good kind of fucking)...his getting dressed was in a hurry...eerily in a hurry...

The next day...a text...a text stating that he needed time to himself...but how much time...and what did that mean?

How much time??

Enough time that I never got my Christmas present and I never got a New Years Eve kiss at midnight either.

Because although Mr. Selleck was becoming predictable it wasn't the good kind of predictable...it wasn't safe and solid predictable like the Tom Hanks of the world.

And with Mr. Selleck's predictability came the unpredictable ring of my doorbell on New Years Day.

My Christmas Morning...

Mr. Selleck was on his way over.

I had decided that this would be our "one last time" goodbye.

I left the downstairs door open for him.

And as usual my heart raced as I heard him walking up the stairs.

My resolve to walk away from Mr. Selleck was fading fast.

The writing on the wall was barely visible.

I felt like I couldn't breathe without him.

He came in the door.

I didn't get up to greet him like I usually do.

I remained seated on the couch.

He walked over, leaned down and kissed me and then sat next to me.

All will was gone.  All resolve was gone. And the wall was blank.

I told him this could be our "one last time" goodbye.

Mr. Selleck agreed but then said that we can't count this time because he couldn't spend the night . He was having dinner with his daughter and had to leave soon.

I agreed that this time wouldn't count.

We made love.

Mr. Selleck left with the plans that he would come over on "our" Wednesday (a night we always spent together) for our "one last time" goodbye.

Later on in the evening, after he left his daughter, he text me to say good night.

He text me the next morning.

I wondered if he had read my letter.

The letter that I slipped into that little, plastic bag of his belongings.

He didn't mention it.

Had he not looked in the bag?

"Our" Wednesday was here. The night of our "one last time" goodbye.

I text him to ask him what time he was coming over.

He text back:

"Wow baby. I just read your letter. I haven't been nice. I am sorry. Are you sure you still want me to come over?"

I wasn't sure what to say.  I wasn't sure if I felt the same way as I did the day I wrote the letter. I secretly wished I could have somehow snuck into his house and stole it back.

But it was too late.

He read it:

"I am looking for my Christmas morning, my Easter Sunday, my 4th of July, my Thanksgiving day...my hours in the day, days in the week, weeks in the month and months in the year (42 years right) where I am with the one I think about the most, the one I love with all my heart and the one who is my family.

When we kissed I saw that, when we made love I felt that.

When we had sex whether it was soft and sweet or more erotic, I felt like we were opening up to each other on another level. A level others wished to achieve. 

But what I didn't know was that it was one sided. That you didn't feel the same.

When you came back (and even before then) you lead me to believe you felt the same and I believed you because it all felt so strong. 

No one says the things you did unless you mean it or you are so insecure you wanted to make sure you "had" me. 

And we know you didn't mean it. If you meant it, feelings like that, feelings that strong that should go behind words that strong...feelings like that don't fade in a couple of days or in a couple of weeks. Feelings like that are for keeps. 

I was "this close" to believing in my "meant to be".

But my Christmas morning, my "meant to be" wouldn't be texting another woman in the middle of my living room at 11 o'clock at night.

The only women you should be texting is your sisters, your mother, nieces, in-laws...

I could tell by that smirky smile on your face (which I can't get out of my head) and the way you laughed that you weren't texting any of the above and in that moment I saw you for who you are...and it's none of the things I felt...I've been duped. Feeling a connection that was only on my side. I feel like a fool and I am so hurt that you lead me to believe...

My meant to be...my Christmas morning...my everything...I wish it was you but it's not...and that breaks my heart..."

I stared at his text:

"Wow baby. I just read your letter. I haven't been nice. I am sorry. Are you sure you still want me to come over?"

I text back...

"Yes"

This time when he walked in the door I greeted him.

We didn't really talk.

We kissed passionately as he led me to the bedroom.

As we laid there entangled in each other I said:

"What are we going to do?"

Mr. Selleck put his hand on the side of my head, brushed the hair out of my face, ran his finger down my cheek and said:

"We'll work it out"

That next morning when we woke up in each other arms I knew Mr. Selleck and I were back together.

It all felt so right again...

Until...

Until Christmas morning...

Cemetery

I am pretty sure it is my "Been there! Done that!" attitude that lead me to confront Mr. Selleck over the "text heard round the world"

I have a really good bs meter!

After he left, I spent the night tossing and turning. In complete shock. I didn't sleep a wink. My brain was in overdrive.

The next day he text me that he was going out with daughter and would get in touch with me later and then put a LY (love you) at the end.

LY is how he ends his texts to me.  And I usually reply with a "ditto".

I didn't reply.

The next day, I sent one simple text.

I replied: "We need to talk"

I felt the only recourse I had was to break up with him.

It felt like such a "cheater" move for him to be texting another woman.

I ran it over and over and over again in my mind.

The smile that crossed his face when he read the text...

The laugh...

That is NOT "just" a friend...

My mind flashed images, like out of a movie scene, of every moment we spent together.

Remembering things he said and how he made me feel.

On one of our dates we went to an open house at an artist's home. As we explored the grounds we found ourselves inside this little chapel that the artist constructed. It was small and had all these strange statues everywhere.

We sat inside and kissed for what felt like forever! Actually there were people standing outside the chapel waiting to go in and look around but saw us kissing and didn't enter. It was a little embarrassing but in that "Ohh sweet love..." kinda way not a "get a room!" kinda way.

Walking around we met this really hip couple Carol and Rich. They met in the 60's in NYC's downtown theatre scene. They were this fun, sassy, cute couple that had been married for 42 years.

We instantly bonded with them and sat there engage in conversation for quite some time.

Later that night after we made love Mr. Selleck wrapped his arms around me, kissed the back of my neck and ear and said: "I want 42 years with you."

I said teasingly: "Why don't we work on 42 days first, then 42 weeks, then 42 months and then 42 years!"

We laid in bed calculating the date that each milestone would fall on.

His words from the fight kept ringing in my head...

"Not too serious?" "Taking things slow"

Those were his words about our relationship after I caught him texting...was I mistaken?

Talking about being together for 42 years...

Aren't those things you say when you are serious?

During our conversation with the hippest couple on earth, Carol said: "Are you two going to get married?"

Mr. Selleck's reply: "Well we were just in the chapel."

It was cute and sweet. Now that is a remark that you don't take too serious.

But mentioning purposing, urging me to try to get pregnant again...those are not things you say causally...that's serious shit!

This made me wonder about every remark he ever made and of course the biggest remark of all:

"I love you!"

Was he being not too serious about that too?

I saw the writing on the wall.

And it was written in red! Big red letters!

RUN!

There were other words starting to appear on the wall too: player, cheater, rebound...the words were light at first but becoming a darker red the more my mind focused on the wall.

I knew I had to break up with him.

My heart hurt. I truly thought he could be "the one" and he certainly led me to believe that too!

I put his belongings in a bag. It wasn't much...a toothbrush, nicorette gum, some bathroom products and some "bedroom" products (wouldn't you like to know!)...

I put them all in a plastic shopping bag and I slipped a note inside.

A note telling him how he made me feel.

My "goodbye" letter.

He responded back to my "We have to talk" text.

He wrote: "Do you want to meet at the gym?"

"Seriously?" I questioned.

He text that he didn't mean it as if nothing happened, he just felt it was a neutral place to talk.

I told him I was going to church.

He then suggested I meet him at the cemetery that his father is buried in. It is right down the street from my church.

I agreed.

I pulled into the cemetery and saw his car.

We both got out.

I walked over to him.

My heart was racing and hurting all at the same time.

With a shaky voice, I told him I couldn't be with him anymore and gave him his bag of stuff that contained  the secret letter.

He asked if we could be friends.

I said no.

He put the bag in his car.

Then we walked around the mausoleum holding hands and talking.

He told me that even though it was a flirtatious text he has no interest in her.  But on her end she has an interest in him.

*So what are you leading her on? Keeping her on the sidelines? - of course these are things I thought of later on to ask!

He then mentioned that it really is just a matter of how serious of a relationship, how big of a relationship he wants right now...

*Okay then don't say serious things!! Don't say BIG things! Once again something I thought of later to say...

He asked me if I wanted to go with him to see his father's grave.

I declined and said my goodbye.

When I got home I started to rethink everything.

I started to I feel like I completely overreacted.

Everything written in red on the wall was now transforming and fading.

It morphed into a plain, white wall, as the words disappeared,  I couldn't see the writing anymore. Unable to read.

I felt heartache...I felt uncertain of my actions when I was so certain before...

My resolve was fading just like the big red letters on the wall...

I felt like I just said goodbye to the best thing that's happened to me in a long, long time.

I sat in my living room in a daze and cried.

Just outside my window I heard the hungered wails of Sematary...my somewhat adopted stray cat.

I pushed open the window and called his name.

"Sematary!" "Sematary!"

There he was, looking up at me with those tortured eyes.

I threw a handful of food out the window.

I watched him walk over, trying to find each nugget in the grass to eat.

I'm not sure how long I stared at him scavenging for nuggets.

I closed the window.

Aimlessly  I walked around my condo. I walked over to my phone.

Slowly picked it up.

Looked at it.

More like studied it.

I sent one text:

"Come over"

An instant reply:

"I'm on my way baby"

Men and Women...

I am a firm believer that men and women cannot be friends unless one important factor is removed from the equation.

Until that factor is removed from the equation it will always linger over the friendship with the possibility of either changing the dynamic of the friendship and igniting it or ruining the friendship all together.

And that factor is sex.

 It is a simple equation man + woman = sex.

Now I know we could say man + man or woman + woman equals sex too but for now we are dealing with the man/woman friendship conundrum.

The only way men and women can truly be friends is if the sex has been taken out of the equation or off the table!

There are a two sure fire ways sex can be removed from the equation:

The First Way:

One of you is gay!

This is the easiest way to remove sex from the equation and wonderful friendships can be had.

I lived with my gay guy for 6 years. We were Will and Grace before the show Will and Grace came out!

My "Will" was a great friend.  We had date night, produced plays together, pretend fought in the supermarket, acted out monologues, worked out, got drunk, cried, consoled, laughed, hugged, slept together...

Yes, we slept together but no sex...

My Will was afraid of thunder. So whenever there was a thunder storm I would get a knock on my bedroom door...

"Can I sleep with you?"

"Come on in!"

I actually recommend that every straight girl get herself a gay boyfriend! They are the best friends a girl can have!

They will never let you leave the house not looking your best! Even if it's only to go to the Home Depot!

And they will never have secret thoughts and/or agendas of trying to get you into bed.

It is the truest and best form of the man/woman friendship.

The Second Way:

You can have sex and realize your are better off friends. You have gotten over  the curiosity and/or tried the relationship and you realize friendship is the best relationship for the two of you.  Sex is now off the table and you can move forward as friends. You will no longer wonder.

The first acting classes I ever took was with a woman named Barbara. She taught at the New School in NYC and gave private lessons in her home.

I was 20 years old and full of hopes and dreams.

I started taking private acting classes with Barbara.

In the class was a handsome man... to me he looked like Sidney Poitier!

My Mr. Poitier! My Sidney was beautiful, talented, charming... and 10 years older than me.

He would say things like: "I have shirts older than you!"

Sidney became my friend and my protector. Taking care of me as I learned to brave this big city on my own.

But you see Sidney and I couldn't be "just" friends because we hadn't taken sex out of the equation yet.

Of course the moment came where the friendship moved forward and we had sex.

I can't remember exactly how long it took. I was somewhere between breaking up with my high school sweetheart and falling in love with my sailor.

I think Sidney and I only had sex once. Maybe twice but then we both went on to fall in love with other people. Me with my sailor and Sidney with a woman he worked with.

Both those relationships ended  but our friendship blossomed.

Sidney was my safe place.

Sidney always "named" my boyfriends.  Always with a "boy"...Sailor boy, Stockbroker boy, Bread boy (he wouldn't call him Breadman!)

He once told me the day he doesn't name him is the day I found the one.

I wonder what he would call Mr. Selleck??

 Sidney and I remained friends for many, many years...until one day...until one day my dear friend moved all the way across the country to the west coast, fell in love and got married...

And I will be honest...even though we removed sex from the equation early on...I still think that there was something more than friendship there...we did have more...I loved him dearly...

In reality maybe our story is more of a tragic love story than an amazing friendship story...because when it comes to men and women being friends, not only is it hard to remove the sex from the equation...it's hard to separate the "what if" or the "what we could be" out of the equation!

Now there are other ways that sex can be removed from the equation but the ones listed above are sure fire ways.

Age could also have something to do with it.

I have a dear friend and ex-business partner who is like a little brother to me (younger than my nephew!) so the friendship never had sex in the equation.

But for the most part if you are thinking: "Hey I have this guy friend and we are "just" friends..."

Chances are at one time or another both of you or at least one of you thought about it.

And more than likely secretly wants it.

You know the "just friends" until both of you are single and sometimes even when you're not.

I had a very good male friend who one day, after years of friendship....made the moves on me...we haven't been friends since...I miss him...

And it's because we NEVER took sex out of the equation.  So it festered over the years...until one day the "what ifs" and the "what we could be" took over.

This "confidant" friend thing is a load of bs too. If you are reaching out to a friend of the opposite sex to talk about your significant other you are "looking" for something outside the relationship. It might not (at first) be sex but it sure is a segue to it!

A good old hop, skip and a jump!

So when Mr. Selleck was in the middle of my living room at 11 o'clock at night texting someone with a smile and a laugh...I knew it wasn't his sister!

"Who are you texting?"

And after prodding he says: "My friend Lisa"

I can't really remember exactly what happened after that.  My mind only plays back certain moments.

We fought.

I think I threw a water bottle at him.

*Okay I know I threw a water bottle at him.

He didn't deny that it was a flirtatious text and he really didn't try too hard to smooth things over.

He actually said that he was taking things slow with us and didn't think things were that serious.

What?

I called him out on him mentioning marriage and his response was more shocking than his texting.

He declared: "When did I mention marriage?"

I tried to jog his memory and said: "When you said my "big decision"  would be having to decided whether I was going to say yes or no to your marriage proposal."

And he told me that didn't really count because he was mentioning it in reference to the psychic.

What?!?!?!??

I was floored.

After he left and even after I received his text stating that he wasn't going to let me say goodbye...I couldn't sleep...all I could think about was that he was sending another woman a flirtatious text...

Is she really "just" a friend?

Or a segue to the "what if"?

A segue to the "what we could be"...

A hop, skip and a jump to....