Dear Fred,
It’s been a while since I’ve seen your face but hearing your voice is almost as good. At least I have a mental picture when you talk. I’m sure you don’t wanna hear all this crap, but I feel the need to do it and you’re hard to pin down.
I first remember noticing that you made me smile about a year before I fled from that disaster of a marriage. Things could be going to hell in a handbasket at work, and you’d just whistle and throw out some one-liners to defuse the situation. That impish smile and cocky whistle caught my attention every time. But not just me. Everybody else at work thought you were the best too.
After my divorce, I spent about 6 months in a haze…lots of alcohol and plenty of crying. It wasn’t because of the marriage being over, particularly. It was simply because I found myself to be 47 and never having known what it feels like to be truly loved by a man. That was when I turned to you in fear of not having that chance.
You’ve seen me in just about every emotional state there is yet all I know of you is the whistling happy go lucky guy at work. With a daughter you adore. And a wife you don’t talk about. When I start to feel sorry for myself about being lonely, I think about how lonely you can be in a marriage and I feel better….I knew the feeling well.
You’ve been really polite and kind about the whole thing, and I imagine you’re relieved I’m not the kind to lawyer up on sexual harassment. If only you knew how far from the truth that is.
In the beginning, I admit, that it looked mighty attractive to dream about not having to work for once in my life and being somebody’s companion and best friend. That’s what it was though….not anything like greed or opportunism. Just a weary old gal who’d like to rest from one job to do another.
Later on, I had to let go. When you turned me away cold it hurt my soul worse than anything I can remember. I was so scared to come to you like that and the look on your face is burned on my brain forever. Something like “What? I didn’t do a thing!”
You didn’t, and that’s the beautiful part. I fell in love with you for who you are and not what you can do for me. My friend told me to watch out for the “little guy syndrome” You know what that is….Like when you’re extremely cocky because you feel insecure about being a little guy. And ya know what? She’s right. My Daddy’s that way too.
Which brings me to the point. I’m not sure what that is, except to say once again that you bring out the best in me and make me want to be better. And you do it in such a way that I never feel guilty or wrong or stupid. Even when I got snotty nosed honest with ya.
I think that we do what we have to do to survive when times are hard, and if I hadn’t had you to look forward to the past few years, my life would’ve been pretty empty. When I try to feel sorry for myself or hurt, that’s a blessing that I count as major. You have no idea how close I was to going over the edge. Or maybe you did.
The fact remains that three years later, I still love you. It’s a different love now, that’s based on reality of what is …like a wife. And years of shared experiences. Conversation about kids and co-workers and food and pre-nups and religion and drinking. Life stuff. REAL stuff.
I’m crying as I write this, not because you’re dead or gone or mad at me. It’s just because I’ve let go of a dream….one that’s been with me for awhile. At least I’m getting’ quicker….it didn’t take me 20 years this time.
Deb tells me that the ten year rule is always in effect, and she’s pretty smart. According to that rule, you’ve got seven more to realize what a “creature like none other” that I am. In the meantime I’ll still smile when you whistle.
With much smartass love……..^j^
