A little something for the 2019 Holiday event.
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Gordon Lightfoot: "Turnin' back the pages, to the times I love best, I wonder if she'll ever do the same."
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It was as much a perfect storm, as any one thing. Faye, my wife at the time, and I had been feuding about many things. After four married years, things were moving too slowly, things were moving too fast, and it was YOUR fault. Of course, none of that was entirely accurate. Why is the lack of a dollar in your wallet so much more important than the promise of lots of dollars down the road? Were the 'had to have' things really that important?
I missed a company party she absolutely had to have me attend. She forgot our anniversary. Things were said which couldn't be taken back. The words we spoke in anger had both of us crying ourselves to sleep, in separate bedrooms. We hadn't crashed yet, but the death spiral had started.
The final showdown occurred when I was offered a promotion. Not in the Boulder office, no, a thousand miles away in Ventura. Before accepting, I consulted Faye. It did not turn out like I expected.
"Faye, I was offered a big promotion today. Problem is that it's in the Ventura office. We'd have to relocate. Thoughts?"
After glancing at me, then looking away several times, she sighed. Standing up, she came over and kissed me on the cheek.
"Go ahead and take it Elliot. I know you'll excel. I'm not moving. This marriage hasn't been working for a long time. I'll start the divorce in the morning."
Faye didn't wait for a response. She simply turned away, grabbed her keys and left.
I sat there stunned. Sad, relieved, confused, upbeat, and a thousand other flash emotions. Relationships are complex and overwhelming at times. Faye didn't come home that night, although she sent a text telling me she was at her parents.
Since the relocation was covered by my company, all I needed to do was point out what to leave and what to pack up. Almost six years together, ending in a whimper. I left a voice message, and sent a text to Faye before I boarded my flight. She responded to neither.
The divorce wound its way through the courts without delays. About three months later, I was single again. I was neither happy nor sad about it. Confusion ruled my emotional state. I buried myself in my job.
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The new job was very demanding and I found myself working sixty to eighty hours a week. I had no social life, and the office flirts were wasting their time. With the no fraternization terms of my contract, they were about as appealing as a prostate exam done with a sharp knife. Some days were more difficult than others. The night can be excruciatingly long when sadness overwhelms you.
Manual relief, in the morning shower, did the trick for the first few months. I did find myself occasionally checking Faye's social media pages, to see if she'd moved on. Somehow it did my ego some good to see that she was still single and not many dating comments. If she was checking mine, it probably did her ego good as well.
Even through high school and college, I'd never had a one night stand. That changed at the New Year's party I attended. Tia had her sights set on me soon after she arrived. She was the friend of a lady in sales, and knew more about me than a stranger should.
Her reddish hair, long and curled, was dancing off of her chest. She'd worn a large turquois pendant which drew your attention to her push up bra and cleavage. Her skirt exposed her knees while her shoes exposed red painted toenails. She was a very attractive woman.
"That pendant looks nice on you. Does it signify anything?"
"Yes, it's a beacon designed to draw your attention to my scenery."
"It works well. Every man who passes by, myself included, checks out your beautiful eyes."
"You keep thinking that. I'm not fooled for a minute, but nice try."
"Well your scenery is worth checking out."
"I'm glad you like it. Buy a girl a drink?"
When we arrived at my apartment, Tia did a sexy dance for me. Not having had sex with a woman in several months, I was about to burst. Our tongues battled to a draw. The feeling of her warm body against mine was delightful.
I doubt that I lasted three minutes as I filled the condom sliding in and out of her red hot juicy pussy. Sliding down I tasted her juices. Definitely different, but still in a good way. Bringing Tia to an orgasm, with only my tongue, gave me hope. When you've been in a relationship wreck, you just aren't sure where to place the blame. At least I could satisfy a woman sexually.
We didn't sleep much that night. I had a lot of catching up to do, and Tia was a warm and willing woman.
Even though the sex was great, I couldn't see myself starting a relationship with Tia. Her views on religion, politics, race, and children were too different from mine. If she wanted to be a friend with benefits, I wouldn't mind that at all.
I was a jerk. I didn't tell her my feelings the next morning, nor did I ever call her.
Over the next two years there were three women I hooked up with on several occasions. All of them ended similarly. Finding that right match wasn't something that could be done with an occasional date. I convinced myself that I was too busy working, so that made it okay. Still, loneliness comes with a price. The urge to accept that round peg in a square hole was becoming stronger.
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You wouldn't think three little words could cause such emotional turmoil. Opening a greeting card, in today's snail mail stack, was a somber card. It was an autumn scene with the last few leaves drifting to the ground. The lake pictured was calm and the sky was cloudy. A lone woman, arms folded, was leaning back against a tree, gazing at the lake. When I peeled the pages apart, my eyes misted.
'I miss you.'
Not signed, but the postmark was from Boulder, where Faye and I used to live. After three years apart, I still loved her. Making our marriage work wasn't something we succeeded at.
After a less than restful night, I decided to respond. At lunch, I went card shopping. It took me almost my entire lunch hour to find the right card. It was an equally somber card, but this one showed a man, standing alone with his elbows on the railing of a bridge. With his head tilted down, he appeared to be deep in thought.
'You cross my mind, from time to time.'
Finding a current address for Faye took a few days. I was pretty sure this slow dance had just begun. How has she changed? How have I changed? What surprised me was how strong this forgotten desire was. Stupid, I know, but even the day after I mailed hers, I checked my mail for a response.
After seven long days, another greeting card found me. This time Faye's return address was in the upper left corner. Thankfully, I had indeed found her correct address. Wasting no time, I extracted the card.
It was another somber autumn card, this time with two people a dozen yards apart. Both were sitting on park benches, gazing at the setting sun. Although both looked elderly, you could tell that one was a man and one was a woman.
Inside the card, in red ink 'Flickering embers of hope.'
What a softy I'd become. My eyes misted over again. Another lunch hour spent pouring over dozens of cards. When that failed, I spent another ninety minutes after work looking for the right one.
This card was of the dawning sun, with a rooster sounding his morning call. I borrowed an often repeated verse.
'It's always darkest before the dawn.'
Should I hold it for a few days? Am I acting too anxious? Making a compromise, I held onto it for one day. This was turning out to not only be fun, but very therapeutic. Even my secretary made a comment about how upbeat I'd been recently. I told her it was her imagination.
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With no easy way to let Faye know, that I was travelling for business all week, I resorted to leaving a comment on her social media page.
'Travelling for a week. Card you later.'
Work demanded my full attention, and I really didn't think much about Faye until settled into my return flight seat. What if there wasn't a card waiting for me? My heart sank at that thought. Whether I liked it or not, she had wormed her way back into my heart. No mail service on Sunday, so I'd have to wait until Monday to retrieve any correspondences.
After picking up my mail, I didn't wait until I was home. I ripped open Faye's card as soon as I was in my car.
This card pictured a park bench on a sunny day. On the left side of the bench was a man who was facing a woman sitting on the right end of the bench. Several feet separated them. They appeared to be talking, based on the facial expressions.
Her message was 'I miss your voice too.'
Was I ready to talk to Faye? Even at this snail's pace, were things moving too fast for me? I honestly couldn't answer either question. It took me two lunches and one night after work to find the appropriate card. You could record a short message.
My card was similar to Faye's last, in that it showed a couple on a park bench. They were surrounded by many couples doing their thing. The couple on the bench wasn't snuggling but held hands. Both were looking at the activities around them.
'Can our voices avoid arguing?' was my printed message.
'I'm not in a committed relationship' was my recorded message.
I'd recorded and erased a half dozen messages before settling on that one. Was I a little too weak? Was I a little too strong? Damn this relationship thing. I wanted something with Faye, I just didn't know what. Before this went too much farther, I needed to figure that out. Rekindling had cost me what little social life I had. The last thing I needed was trying to please two women. I wondered if Faye was struggling with these same issues.
A day before I expected to get Faye's return card, Ken Collins, the director of our east coast office, had a heart attack. Before the sun set, I was jetting cross country to Baltimore. Until he was ready to return to work, I'd be the interim director. Any thoughts of Faye had been pushed deep into the back of my mind. Only when my newly acquired personal secretary asked about my personal life, did I snap out of my myopic business world. I needed to get word to Faye about the turn of events.
Not only did I need to get word to Faye, in my rush to leave, I hadn't stopped my mail. My spare house key was in my office desk in Ventura. I'd have to get someone there to help me on Monday.
On Sunday night, I sent a text to my Ventura secretary asking her to pick up my mail, and then overnight it to me. She agreed to do that, and then do it again on Thursday.
Tuesday afternoon saw me staring at the unopened package of mail. I should have been paying closer attention to my staff's concerns. Rather than risk disappointment, I put the package in my desk drawer. I made it all the way back to my extended stay apartment before realizing that the package was still in that drawer. There is no after-hours access to the offices. Setting my alarm for an hour earlier, I planned to get into the office before most had arrived in the morning.
I think I would have had a broken heart, if Faye's card wasn't there. It was, and I was on cloud nine all day. The picture was of a lone couple, walking along the beach, with his arm wrapped around her, and her head leaning hard into his shoulder. Just like my last card, this one had a recorded message.
Faye's written message was 'The fact that I contacted you is all you need to know about my current status.'
I played her voice message several times throughout the day.
'I still love you' in her softest sexiest voice.
That gave me all I needed to reply. A simple note, with my phone number, was sent winging its overnight way to Faye.
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