Two Roads to the Same Spot

I met Paul at our Senior Luau

in September of 1999.

I was 16 years old  and had a crush on another guy

but I still remember meeting him that night

and thinking that given his 6'5" stature

and my love of high heels
he'd be the perfect prom date.

By February of 2000 we were a couple.

High school sweethearts in a big way;

first loves and everythings.

Sitting next to one another

on the bench seats of his '83 Caprice Classic.

And we went to Prom

and he left for college

and it was la la la la love.

Prom 2000

But like most good, sweet,
and innocent things

it came to an end.

Because I needed fixing

and he tried but he couldn't.

Because I needed loving

and he tried but it wasn't enough.

Because I was a bottomless pit

convinced an 18 year old boy

could solve all my emptiness

and he tried but he finally gave up

when he knew I'd drown us both.

And it was sad and I was devastated.

And we tried to keep dancing

and stay friends

but it was too painful.

And our lives had become too different

and I threw myself into a lifestyle

that had no place for him.

And I sunk myself in a counterfeit place

where I could forget about him and he moved on.
He chose his own path in his own wood

and we didn't speak for about a year.

Until we did.

Until I found myself
wounded from my life and so very lost

and needing to speak to someone who knew

who I was before I was what I had become.

And he answered the call and he came,

because that is who he has always been.

And because sadness and loneliness

and being 20 is super confusing

and fraught with impulse and irresponsibility

I found myself pregnant.

And we had two different ideas

about what needed to happen

and I felt alone

and resentful

and angry

and rejected.

And it was so hard

and it was so painful

and I crucified him

in thought and action

to myself and to anyone who would listen

because the wound was so deep.

And it took me a million years

times a million years

to realize that I hadn't been the only one

having an experience.

That he had had plans and ideas too

and now they were changed.

And in April 2004
our beautiful boy was born and Paul was there.

 

And that baby came home to furniture

his dad had put together.

And the first time Lucas was sick,

Paul drove him around in his Suburban until 6am
 because the noise lulled him to sleep.

And we weren't together

but we managed to be parents.

We did birthday parties and doctors appointments.

Picked schools and insurance.

And it was still hard and it was still complicated

and we made mistakes aplenty

but we limped along.

Limped off into separate personal lives;

mine which lead to another child 4 years later

and his into his own story to tell.

And anyone who knows me can tell you

that I really never stopped loving him. 

And it was years of hating instead of hurting

and stabbing each other in the back and in the front.

And if you ask him,

(which I have)

he stopped loving me for a very long time.

Always the more logical one,

he had closed the door and moved on,

placing me comfortably in the category of "Lucas' Mom"

and getting on with his own life.

And so we traveled for years,

each on their own path

but still in the same forest.

Peeking out every so often

to make sure the other was still safe,

even when we weren't meaning to.

And I don't know what happened

but suddenly we were back in front of one another.

Totally different but still the same.

And we circled one another suspiciously for months

and it was still painful

and it was still complicated

and there was still baggage.

And I kept saying, "Come on!"

and he kept saying, "Hold on!",

and there was a lot of "Slow down!"

and "What do you want?!?!"

until one day

there wasn't.

Until one day we must have said,

"The hell with it!"

and got on with giving each other a chance.

Buried old hurts and old selves

and got on with a new history.

This last year has not been perfect

and it has not been painful.

We've stayed out of the highs and the lows

and remained pretty much camped out

in Quiet No Drama Land.

Even in the rough patches and the growth spurts

we've managed to behave like grown-ups most of the time.

I think I only stamped away twice

which I'm pretty sure is a record.

I cannot describe the precious gift it has been

to love someone in a new way.

To burn it all down and rebuild it,

to be with someone whose worst

you've already seen

and bring out the best in one another.

Turns out those two roads led to the same spot.

I didn't know

it could be this sweet.