The BRAVEst of HEARTs with unWARRANTed kindness
I wish he had come into my life at a time when I had more to offer him instead of just exhaustively taking. Regrettably, due to untimely circumstances, I was anxious, insecure and needy; I definitely did not put my best foot forward. But maybe his page in my book was right where it needed to be and was never meant to be a chapter, as disappointing as it is.
INSTANTLY INTRIGUED
My William Wallace sort of dropped out of thin air, something about his eyes and smile in his photos intrigued me. He had this genuine look about him, a “you get what you see” sort of guise. We “matched” exchanged a few light-hearted lines and scheduled a meet and greet for the next week. There were no expectations, no forced convos. It was such a relief in that regard.
THE BACKGROUND
However, as the next week loomed closer, so did my pending procedure that I had put off EIGHT times over the last FOUR years. I quickly became a raging lunatic and my anxiety was out of control. I couldn’t sleep. I was constantly nauseas when I would think about it. I was filled with doubt and indecisiveness. I could not keep my wits about me. Four years ago, when I set out on this surgical adventure, I still had quite a bit of weight from babies and wasn’t nearly as active as I should have been. Plus, I was “married” at the time and thought I’d never dig my way out of it.
For purposes of elaboration, we are still ‘legally’ married by contract but upon legal advice, we agreed to postpone finalizing the divorce decree until the conclusion of a 3-year ongoing pool lawsuit that will finalize this year because the lawsuit only names my ex as the plaintiff. It’s definitely NOT an ideal situation and one we are both extremely annoyed and tired of. Nonetheless, we jointly refer to ourselves as “divorced” just as common law folk call themselves “married.” We have already put together the decree, divided all of our assets, developed a 50/50 custody arrangement, live 100% financially independent of each other, and have both been seeing other people for a while now. I will admit that because it’s such a weird situation that I typically don’t explain it and instead I just refer to myself as divorced. It’s not a means to be deceptive, it’s just one of those things that we’ve been waiting years to finalize that few would understand… but there’s quite a bit of money at stake for me or I would have just said screw it by now.
All of that to say, when I originally scheduled and paid for this “mommy makeover” I never factored in how Edward Scissorhands scars may affect my confidence and body image. Now, however, I was more active and healthier and back in the dating game. I had firmed up quite a bit (definitely still some room for improvement), but despite the torn ACL setback (NOT to be confused with Austin City Limits), I was pretty damn confident I did not need any sort of tummy tuck. But, I panic when I’m the patient. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I’m so afraid of the stereotype of being “difficult” that I just do what they say. I felt cornered, which is the absolute WORST feeling for someone suffering from ISTP personality disorder. I was in fight/flight mode and brainstorming ways to fake my own death so I wouldn’t disappoint anyone- myself, the surgeon, future partners, etc
THE MEETUP AND MORE
Back to the story:
The coffee date finally approached, and I had intentionally scheduled a dog grooming appointment a few hours into it as a quick escape. But the conversation flowed seemlessly, and I actually wanted to know more, a rarity for me. Something about him was different and my sense of intrigue was spot on. So, after I dropped my pup off, we met up at a local park and talked more about personalities, past relationships, etc. I found his gentle spirit captivating and an innocence about him that was comforting. He was unlike anyone I had ever dated before, and I immediately knew I wanted to spend more time with him. We parted with the typical “I had a good time, let’s get together again sometime” sort of farewell. Honestly, because of all the stress of that week (so much of it is a blur now), I don’t remember if it was the next day or a day or two later or when… but in typical Julie fashion, I woke up and decided I wanted to go check out a new state park right then and so I took the initiative to invite him last minute as a spontaneity test. He bit- hook, line and sinker!
SPONTANEITY
To my surprise, he accepted right away. A couple of hours later, we met up for a few drinks at a local brewery, then did some light hiking and chatting at the park, and finally decided to grab dinner. Oddly, about 30 seconds after sitting down at the diner, a transformer blew and we were forced to relocate to a restaurant across the street, that we subsequently closed down while slurping a margarita pitcher Lady and the Tramp style. After hours and hours together, I suppose neither of us were ready for the night to end. Subsequently, we walked to a nearby bar and played some pool. It was all so light-hearted, and it felt like a friend I was catching up with that I hadn’t seen for years. There was an ease about everything with him. I was unapologetically sarcastic, narcissistic, and goofy and he seemed to take it all with a grain of salt.
The night was getting late and he still had quite a drive back home. So, he drove me back to my car and as we got out, he had something for me. My surgery and my 40th birthday were only a few days away and he had taken the liberty of getting me a birthday gift, wrapped it and all. When he handed it to me with a half-hearted side hug, I’m sure there was a look of disbelief on my face. It was such a bittersweet moment. It was the sweetest, most thoughtful thing a guy has EVER done for me, more impressively someone I had only met twice in my life. Sadly, I was 39, almost 40, and I had just now experienced pure, unequivocal kindness with no agenda or expectation. I was so taken back by the gift. I quickly put it in my car and turned back around just as he was getting in his car and driving off. I felt deflated, like he already regretted it, and I had completely misinterpreted the entire night. By the end of the night, I already had a pretty good idea I was friend-zoned anyway, but now I wasn’t even certain that I even made it in the friend-zone AT ALL.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t give a shit, and that’s how I’ve coped with any sort of rejection my entire life. “F*ck ‘em” has been my guiding principle. And this man was essentially a stranger for fox’s sake. But I cared!?! Why? In retrospect, I definitely felt undeserving of his kindness, respect, and admiration. I assume this was secondary to all the beatdowns from the men I previously dated/married and some of my unresolved childhood trauma. Nevertheless, I am so embarrassed to say that I had never experienced such unabashed gentleness before- clearly because of my poor choices- perfect example, the foxing situationship I got myself into that I would take back if life allowed do-overs.
MIXED MESSAGES
In his defense, he did send some sort of “I had a good time, let me know you made it home, please” text, but that felt even more confusing. I did, however, oblige and sent “home” when I made it. Not that I actually had a list, but if I did, I essentially did a William Wallace strikethrough and went to sleep (as best as I could those few nights leading up to my surgery). As per my usual daily routine, I was wide awake by 5:00 am for absolutely NO reason at all. But, I still couldn’t shake this guy, so I sent a text that was likely WAY too LONG and overly convoluted and obnoxious because that’s what I do when I feel awkward and out of my element. It turns out, I had misread the previous night’s ending and it wasn’t a forever strikethrough after all.
Apparently, when he feels out of his element, he drives away really fast and I get clingy and chatty? Let me tell you though, this cat had me all off kilter and second guessing every move I made. SO, I took the liberty of blowing this guy’s phone up… I’m talking it was about the dumbest shit ALL THE TIME- I had him looking up scars for Christ’s sake… this was all super sexy and exuding confidence and independence, I’m sure. I was using him as my personal therapist. Clearly in retrospect, it was so immature, obsessive, and silly and a super inappropriate way to circumvent the anxiety I was feeling about my procedure. Looking back, this is the part where I felt like I was just taking and taking and disrespectful of his time and space. I would have been so annoyed if the situation was reversed. Actually, frequently I get frustrated and overwhelmed by these type of people and I want to tell them to just get a life and calm down. Not this guy… he stayed calm, cool, and collected and embraced my crazy (at least on the outside).
FINALLY, THE DAY OF SURGERY
This is the part of the story where I’d like to say I finally came to my senses and started acting more reasonable and grownup. Oh noooooo. I’m texting this guy pictures of my preop medications and IV on the day of surgery like a complete whackadoodle. Truly, if an outsider could review at all the texts and conversations from the beginning, they would have ZERO clue I was in healthcare and damn good at my job. Instead, they would question if I was prematurely released from a mental health facility for severe codependency. I remember texting that I was headed back to surgery and he had some cute clever things to say that made me smile. Thanks to the versed that I requested, the next thing I remember he was here… at my house… only hours after my surgery ended. Most certainly, I had sent my typical text bombs on my way home from the surgery center and remembered none of it. I can’t even imagine what a mess I looked like or who would invite someone to come see them at their worst… me, clearly. Not only was he here, but he acted with such poise in likely the most awkward situation he had ever been in. He just sat/laid in bed next to me surrounded by my family. I honestly don’t know if we talked or if I just slept or if we watched TV or what. I don’t remember much of anything, but at some point, I remember feeling at peace. It was a peace in my soul that I hadn’t felt in years and it was the first time I felt safe since my mom passed. I’m sure my memory is incredibly cloudy because of all the medications I was on, but I think I remember our arms were just barely touching and I remember wondering how such a small gesture could make me feel so cared for and protected. It was truly nothing I had ever experienced. It wasn’t sexual, it wasn’t invasive, it wasn’t unsolicited… it was just enough and it calmed my spirit and somehow made it okay that my mom wasn’t there next to me. His very presence just made everything “okay.” I wish this all didn’t sound so creepy and weird and obsessive, but at the present, I can’t find any other words or feelings to describe it all.
AND THEN I WAS 40
I woke up the next morning, on my 40th birthday and he was still there, next to me. Apparently, when he came the night before, he had brought my favorite dessert in the entire world, Key Lime Pie. I think we may have had a piece? Maybe not, I honestly don’t remember. It’s so strange to have such huge holes in time that I can’t recollect. Unfortunately, I don’t remember many events or much that actually happened, but I can recall very visceral emotions and feelings that I was experiencing or at least I think they were real.
At some point, I think he put his hand on my leg (again, never in an inappropriate way, truly the most respectful guy I’ve ever met) and it was the first time I felt like maybe at some point this could be more than a friendship for him and for me. Again, maybe I was overthinking it and I don’t remember the actual order of events of anything. But, in my mind, I was careful not to reciprocate much because in all truth, these feelings I was having scared me and I didn’t trust them. It was too quick to feel like I “knew” this person from such a few limited but pivotal experiences. It felt like I was entering this danger zone where I was sure to get hurt. When it came time for him to head back home (right in the middle of rush hour), he gave me a hug, not a side hug like previously but a genuine hug; it hurt my incisions just a little but I still welcomed it and I now cherish it. Strangely, I remember thinking that was probably the last time I would ever see my Braveheart. I just had this “feeling” about it. Like it was all a too good to be true sort of thing.
Honestly, so much of this could have been a dream because for days after my surgery I had issues distinguishing reality from a false reality. I can’t say when or how, but during his stay, it must have come up that I wasn’t legally divorced. I don’t know if I explained it or if there was a conversation or what, but I remember at some point after he left having this sinking feeling in my gut that he felt deceived or lied to- one of the absolute worst things I could ever do to him even if it was unintentional. It would make me no better than those that had hurt him deeply before me.
THE ENDING BEFORE THE BEGINNING
This is where conversations and timelines get even MORE confusing to me. Clearly too much valium every single day really scrambled my brain. Truthfully, I don’t really remember any text exchanges, but I remember this overwhelming feeling of him pulling away. I don’t have any idea how a person can tell if someone is “pulling away” from text messages, but apparently, I’m a mind reader via some text conversations that I can’t even recall (insert sarcasm). Go figure. Then I remember feeling sad, just sad. Sad that something changed. Sad that I took so much from him- his time, energy, emotion and gave back very little, if anything. Sad that I knew it was somehow over. Sad that I may never be able to return the favor. Sad I may never feel such peace like that again.
I felt a bit like a tornado on the inside so I’m sure it was worse on the outside. It had been such a whirlwind of emotions for me with the pending surgery and my mom not being there, etc… then throw this beautiful but very brief experience with this unicorn of a man and it was all so surreal. In fact, even now it all feels more like a dream than a reality. It’s the strangest of things. To quote Charles Dickens in A Tale of Two Cities:
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us…”
Unfortunately, I was right. I knew something was off. I was pushing things pretty hard emotionally and he was steadily but respectfully taking steps back and inserting distance. I think he was maybe just waiting for the right time to broach the subject, understandably. In the end, I was devastated. I sent some sort of cordial but hollow reply that I had zero actual intent of following up on because I knew I was embarrassingly too hurt to hang out like I had never considered more. Here's the thing and what I truly believe, if someone wants something more to happen, they’ll make it happen. There’s no time, no distance, no hardship, no hurdle that will stop them, even if there’s less than 1% chance of it working out. I’m not stupid, I know this. I’ve seen The Notebook for goodness’ sake. I knew it was a compatibility thing for him- probably a crazy vs sane. Haha. Regardless, I felt so ridiculous for having feelings so quickly and for caring so fast and that I felt hurt? It wasn’t about feeling rejected, it was instead feeling like I wasn’t good enough for someone like that.
MOVING ON
Immaturely, I deleted all the conversations. I didn’t want to trudge back through them later and over-analyze them repeatedly and end up being even harder on myself or feeling sillier than I already did regarding my mania and uncharacteristic behavior. Again, in the past, shit like this genuinely rolled off my back, except for that whole situationship nonsense; to be fair, that whole thing was just a Charlie Foxtrot and a direct result of me trying to avoid mourning the death of my mother and instead I reframed my emotions into some sort of false reality… and false reality it most certainly was. I got treated like dog shit and took it like it was heaven on Earth. I was so desperate to feel anything but the despair and the loss of my mom that feeling thrown away repeatedly somehow seemed like a better option. Anyhow, completely moot point and very unrelated- me chasing rabbits again.
With this literal chapter I’ve written that is actually longer than the sweet page he wrote in my book of life on my 40th birthday, I feel healing. I know that I do deserve more than I’ve settled for in the past, and I will not settle for anything less in my future. My Braveheart showed me experiences I had never had before and the “type” I need in my life. Now, I am certain that I want kindness. I want consideration. I want a little bit of naivety and innocence. I want patience, not tolerance. I want understanding. I want someone willing to lay with me just because I sent a cryptic message asking them to. HOWEVER, and most importantly, I want someone willing to go the “distance” and give it a fair chance.
I’m still not sure if I’ll ever woman up and actually see my squared away William Wallace again, but I know with 100% certainty, I will never forget him or the life-changing impact he had on me in the short period of time he hovered before forward flight. He deserves nothing but the best and to have nothing short of exactly what his heart desires and someone that always has his six. He has the bravest of hearts and showed me such unwarranted kindness at a particularly prickly time in my life. Sir, I am eternally indebted.
SIDE NOTE
As a side note, this entire experience has been so incredibly eye-opening to me regarding how much the drugs I give my patients every single day can have such an impact on memory and moods in their lives for DAYS. I have way more respect for the medications I use now and give way more warning and instructions to loved ones and patients in advance. I feel sad that I can’t remember even the smallest of events with such an amazing human.
