Closing a door

Rohnert Park, California---“You can’t be strung along for 17 years unless you want to be strung along,” a friend had said days earlier when I described who I planned to see soon on this trip. A guy I had met about 17 years ago at an airshow in Daytona Beach, Florida. Under unusual circumstances; him getting locked out of the condo he was staying in and me having my date leave me, we talked for hours and formed a friendship that over the course of the years would be long phone calls followed by long periods of no contact, followed by seeing him, followed by too many promises to visit me. But there was always something really comfortable and engaging about him that kept me "interested" or yes, strung along.

Eight years ago I had spent a weekend. He was cute and fun and athletic and single and romantic. He took me out on an all-day date to Napa Valley, the base of the Golden Gate Bridge and an amazing restaurant in Sausalito that had a full view of San Francisco. To this day, it was the best date of my life.

I should have known better. Long distance is never real and it’s not what you say, it’s what you do. Actions speak. Sometimes they scream. With me on this trip, they screamed through a loud speaker.

I got to see him. He is still cute and fun and athletic and single and...married to his job. Coming off running a restaurant for over a year, I do understand being consumed by a job. I also understand human nature, especially with men. Women try to make it so complicated when it’s really black and white. “He’s just not that into you.” Period. Big period with an explanation mark followed by several frowny faces.

I tried my best not to let it get to me before I could pack up and leave as soon as possible, skipping putting on any makeup or even my routine of ultra-organizing my Hyundai before I hit the road. But tears filled my eyes and gag…guys HATE that. I think I babbled for a short while about my feelings: DOUBLE GAG…what might have been any feelings he had at all were HACKED to death on the spot. If my Hyundai had a tail, it would have been firmly tucked under the SUV as I drove away.

But I drove away. Knowing full well that that door was closed. No fight. No disagreement. No anger. Just the recognition that he was not the guy for me. After all the years of thinking there was a tiny crack of possibilities, it was now finally closed.

The further the distance, the clearer the picture. Disappointed? Of course. But I learned a very long time ago that life needs to be about what is ahead, not behind. And for me, what’s ahead is Napa.

I’ll drink to that.