Mike and I officially started dating on my 18th birthday, we were still in college and still very much in lust. Our relationship grew fast and within months we were engaged. Not even a couple weeks after our engagement, Mike was finished his final year of college and off to work. On the other side of the country. But, we were dedicated to each other and we made it work. We made the best of late evening phone calls lasting well into the wee morning hours. We made the best of accepting that this was short term and trusting that, no matter the distance, we were faithful to each other.

One night, just shy of last call at the local bars, there was a knock at my front door. Home alone, on the phone with Mike, I made my way downstairs to find Andy; waiting patiently on my door step.

Andy. He was a gorgeous, down home, laid back beautiful East Coaster with a slight drawl. Muscles. Oh, the muscles. Tanned, taught and pretty much perfection. He and I had dated shortly and in spurts. Okay, so they were booty calls. But they were great booty calls. Prior to him even noticing me, I had spent many of my afternoons admiring him from afar in our campus pub. His bohemian style suited him to a tee; his wildly flowing shoulder length hair tucked beneath a ball cap, Birkenstock sandals and a patchwork Grateful Dead fleece jacket.

When we first met, I was smitten. Over the moon in lust. He was absolutely stunning, and better yet, wanted me as badly as I wanted him. Or so it seemed, because after a few nights I found out just how much he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend. Like so madly in love with her, his room was still plastered with pictures of them, portraits of her and a lifetime of memories. It was evident I was the rebound, and as much as it hurt, it took just as long to fall out of lust as it did to fall in.

Summer break came; I professed to anyone who would listen that I was over Andy. Out of sight out of mind is a magical, magical thing. Mike and I began dating and before long That Night arrived. That night, the first day he was back in town from his summer back down east, Andy showed up on my doorstep.

More shocked than anything, I quickly told Mike I had to go and that Andy was there. Probably a bad move on my part seeing as Mike knew our history and I just informed him that my ‘fling’ had shown up in the middle of the night while he was on the other side of the country.

We sat and talked for what seemed like hours. Sitting perpendicular to each other, he look my hand and guided me to his lap where I sat as he asked about my summer; we talked about his and then he slowly took my face in his hands and tried to kiss me. I willed myself to back away. I fought so hard to remain faithful to Mike and not let Andy get to me. God, I wanted to. I wanted to be with him again so badly, but his valiant effort would not sway me. Not this time. He took heed as I stood up and offered him a ride home.

As we pulled up to his house, he apologized for treating me the way he had before leaving to go back home. He said he felt horrible for leading me to believe that he was over his past relationship, but he was now and wanted another chance. I remember wondering if I could get away with being with him one last time. After all, I was engaged to Mike, making him likely, the last man I would be with. Surely he would understand that I needed that one last opportunity of freedom…..

I quickly said good night and reminded Andy that he had his chance – WE had our chance and it just didn’t work out.

After that night there were no more attempts. There was little effort to even make conversation, and eventually got to the point where we no longer spoke at all.

I still wonder sometimes what would have happened had I gave in. I doubt things would have ever gone past those remaining few months of college before we went our separate ways anyway. Everything I have now would probably have vanished into thin air had I let Andy kiss me. Sometimes? I get lost in the daydreams of what could have been, but, good day or not, I really can’t begin to fathom my life any other way.

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This post is part of the Silicon Valley Moms Blog Book Club. January’s second book was Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky by Chris Greenhalgh. Igor, a married man and father of four, finds himself in a precarious situation as he takes up Coco’s offer of her summer house. His family, as well as Coco, live in this home for a few months and while his wife falls ill, Igor find himself tempted by Coco Chanel.

Since leaving high school and attending post-secondary school at the age of 18, I have, more often than not, been the youngest person in my close knit group of friends. Sometimes by gaps of four years or more. It’s really not been something I spend too much time on until it’s brought up; for example, in conversation or I’m outright asked and the resulting reaction is something along the lines of: Holy shit, you’re … keep reading »

I crave to write. I think about it constantly.

I dream of a finished office space, white furniture with wall-to-wall white shelving filled with my books and my magazines. I dream of pristine walls with a slight hint of turquoise. I dream of a wide open window with lightweight sheers and a white orchid sitting on the sill. I see myself sitting at a glass top desk, lightly tapping out my mediocrity for all of … keep reading »

It was bound to happen sooner or later. Since returning to work, back in May, I’ve been running myself ragged. For the past 8 months I’ve been trying to manage two full time jobs, a family and non-existent social life to the point where my body has finally said, Listen lady. This is bullshit. I need rest.

And it rested.

After a grueling week of 5 am – 12am days, a weekend of two sick … keep reading »

It’s not often that I cook. Everyone who knows me well knows my cooking typically consists of quick and easy items: macaroni and cheese (Velveeta, not that Kraft powder shit), spaghetti, sandwiches, zoodles, sometimes boxed preservative laden meats even.

I think it’s more the waiting part that turns me off cooking rather than the actual mixing, working and creating. I am very much the type of person who needs immediate results in order to be … keep reading »

I hummed and hawed about writing that obligatory close out post for 2009. Frankly it was a bitch and entirely unworthy of my time. I have never so badly wanted a year to end, but here I am bidding her adieu.

So I said I wasn’t going to write about it, and I’m writing about it. Sue me.

2009 brought so much heart ache to friends and family. 2009 really had nothing all that wonderful … keep reading »

I set up a Facebook profile ages ago thinking I would use it once and a while to stay in touch with some of the people I grew up with. It was a way to remain connected even though we’re really no longer in each other’s lives; to remain in the past while life quickly spins into oblivion and before we know it, we’re 30 and have no idea where the past ten years … keep reading »

For as long as I can remember, I’ve procrastinated. Holidays are no different.

Every. Single. Mother. Effing. Year. I say I will start Christimas shopping in the summer. I will buy that *perfect* gift as soon as I see it and not rely on my memory to tell me what it was I was thinking of getting 6 months after I’ve seen it in the store.

Every year, I wait.

Every year it is 5 days before … keep reading »