Beep, Beep, Beep.
My alarm rang. I looked across and switched it off, seeing it was 6:40am. Why was my alarm going off this early for a Saturday? I lay there in bed, dozing.
I began to realise that a song kept running through my head. What was that song? There was a particular passage though that kept going through my head.
'And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife
and you may ask yourself
well...How did I get here?'
It was the old Talking Heads song 'Once in a Lifetime'. I smirked to myself. Yes I did have all of these things.
In my dreamy state I began thinking.
How did I get here?
******************************
It all started on a warm summer's Sunday at the beginning of December many years ago. I was sitting on my sofa, in my 'bachelor pad' watching sport on TV, drinking a cold beer. I looked at the beer in my hand and gave an audible sigh.
My 'bachelor pad' was a small two bedroom apartment in a Northern Beaches suburb of Sydney. I had been living here for about 14 months, since I had separated from my now ex-wife. Our divorce had been finalised for a while and I was here, existing, not living.
Our marriage had lasted 6 years before we divorced. We were still civil to each other, but we would not be reconciling. We had met after University, when I had returned from overseas. It was the classical love story. We felt were perfect for each other and loved each other deeply. Life however had other ideas. Once all the excitement of dating, marriage, and starting a family together had waned, we both realised we were no longer in love. It had started to build for a while, but this feeling became greater all the time. We began to resent anything the other person did, and started to argue.
This went on for months, before we both realised we didn't want to hate each other anymore. I moved out to my 'new' apartment and she kept the house. Our divorce settlement was as amicable as it could be. We just needed to be apart.
The only thing that kept us in contact at all was our beautiful daughter Emily. Emily was then 4 and I had her for 5 weekends out of every 6. It was my highlight of each week and I loved having her with me. She did understand about the divorce and she still loved me and loved coming to see me. I adored having her with me.
Finishing off my beer, I don't know why, but I began to mentally take stock of my life. I was 33 years old (34 in March), 5'9" tall with dark hair and not quite as fit as I once was. I enjoyed my career, working for a Sporting Goods and Clothing company in their Sales and Product Management departments. As I had played sport, I worked with our sponsored athletes, as well as working with the retail outlets of our products.
I looked out of the window and could see it was now late in the afternoon. I put my empty bottle in the rubbish. I opened the fridge, reaching for another beer, when I noticed a photo of Emily and me looking back at me on the fridge door. She was grinning like mad and I was making a goofy face. This made me smile, seeing my beautiful daughter. I took the photo off the fridge and sat down at the dinner table and looked at it, looked at me. Where had 'I' gone, the old me? The happy, positive person I used to be.
For the first time I started to think about my marriage in a logical way. I thought about it without blaming my ex, or without guilt gripping me about what more I could have done. Thinking right back through my life I realised that I had always been a positive person. I tried my best at everything I did, and even if it didn't work I was happy I had given it my all.
Searching my emotions I began to realise that my marriage was the first thing I felt I had ever failed at. Slowly I came to realise that I had given our relationship my best effort, and that there was nothing more I could have done. I came to this conclusion as I thought about when I was playing sport. While I had not gone on to any great heights in my professional sporting career, I still thought of it as a success. You make plenty of mistakes playing sport, but you dust yourself off and try again. That was it. I had to get out of this funk I was in. It was time to dust myself off and live again.
I grabbed a pen and my work diary and stared to make notes of what I wanted to do to get 'me' back. As I sat there I listed a dozen things I wanted to do, and ways to achieve what I wanted. Once I had completed my list I felt a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was genuinely feeling optimistic for the first time in a long while. I was pleased with myself for doing this.
**********
Over the next couple of weeks I began to work on myself, to turn myself back into the person I wanted to be. Not just for me, but for Emily, so she would always be proud of me and glad to see me. I joined a gym, to get back to the fitness I wanted. I bought a few new pieces of furniture for my apartment. I had somehow always thought that my residence would be temporary, but now I decided to make it my home. I even updated my wardrobe for the first time in years. I was tired of looking older than I was.
Christmas rolled around and while it had been tough the previous year, not being able to share Christmas morning with Emily, I was determined to make the most of it this year. I really enjoyed time with Emily and with my family, even being more positive in my dealings with my ex. My family especially noticed my changed outlook and they were really pleased and happy for me. I was removing more of the 'funk' every day.
I used the Christmas break to catch up with old friends that I hadn't spoken to in a long time. I had become a bit withdrawn since the divorce was finalised, but reconnecting with them was great. Slowly I began to feel like more of my old self, and was beginning to enjoy life again.
I worked through my list one by one, getting each one underway properly before moving onto the next item. Moving to the next note on my list was going to be a little tougher. 'Find a girlfriend'. Since the separation and divorce I hadn't rushed back out into the dating scene. My heart was still a bit scarred from my previous 'love' experience and I wasn't going to get hurt again. I did have a couple of fix-up dates from friends not long after the divorce was finalised, but nothing worth talking about. I just wasn't ready. I decided I would take my time with this one. I moved this note a bit lower on my list of priorities. I still didn't feel ready to do this yet.
Once back at work, the regular patterns of life began again. My favourite day of the week was always Friday. I picked up Emily from Kindergarten every Friday afternoon for our weekends together.
At kindergarten Emily would always race across the playground to see me as I arrived. It was always the happiest moment of my week. She would start talking non-stop, telling me all her news. I just loved seeing her again.
I always made sure I spoke to her teacher at the kindergarten. 'Miss Kate' had been her teacher the previous year and continued with the class into their last year before school. Kate always greeted me with a smile and we chatted together every time I picked Emily up. Usually it was just about how Emily was doing, but we did branch out into other topics.
During our conversations I found out that Kate Taylor was 24, recently engaged to her high school sweetheart and had moved in with him and loved teaching in kindergarten. Kate was 5'4" tall, long blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes framed with glasses and a wonderful smile. I could best describe Kate as curvy, bubbly and friendly. Emily thought Miss Kate was lovely and really loved going to pre-school.
