Once upon a time I took score too soon.
I was convinced that my life as I knew it was over. Which it was, but not in the sucky way I thought.
I told you guys back at the start of this year how a past love from thirty years ago had contacted me, wanting to reconnect. I also told you how squirmy it made me on account of—he quite literally broke. my. heart!
At the time of our breakup, it seemed as if he’d dumped me right out of the blue, with no rhyme or reason; and it took me five long and torturous (for those around me), years to get over him.
My days consisted of wanton displays of reminiscing, whining, moaning and crying, all of which demonstrated a complete absence of any self-respect or common sense. The cry-fests were of such unending duration that I was single-handedly responsible for the uptick in Kleenex stock at the time.
You’re welcome Proctor and Gamble.
When I was telling my friend Kim (you all remember Kim. She’s the no shit-taker Janet whisperer), the story back in January, I remembered, for the first time in like, forever—this little tidbit.
This nugget of wtf.
This slight of hand that destiny dealt me.
It should have always been the prequel to this tale of woe. The appetizer, the trailer of coming attractions, but it never was, because I forgot about it. Until this year.
Late one hot summer night in 1986, I got off the phone with my luvah boy-toy after what could be described as a three-hour nasty-chat that sizzled the telephone lines between Long Beach, where he was attending college, and LA, where I was busy robbing cradles.
After finishing my post virtual-sex cigarette, I fell asleep ten times less horny and fifty times happier than earlier that night.
He was the love of my life…or so I thought.
Deep into my sexy, sweaty, summer stupor, I had a dream. It was as vivid as real life; only way more interesting.
I was walking barefoot into a cave, running my hands along its cold, smooth, stone walls, feeling the powdery sand between my toes as I ventured further and further into its pitch-blackness. It was cool and dry and I can still smell the mustiness that filled my senses as I inhaled deeply. Even though I’m not a fan of dark cave walks in real life; at the time I felt more curious than anything else.
Suddenly, there was a male presence ahead of me dressed in a black robe with a hood that obscured his face. Again, in real life that is the universal sign for ‘run for your life’, but inside of this dream instead of being afraid I started a conversation, you know like you do with black hooded figures in pitch dark caves.
It’s not like our lips moved, well, maybe his did but it was so dark I couldn’t see them and besides, it was a dream, so we communicated telepathically. I started by asking him who he was and he immediately broke the ice with an ultimatum.
“This is not the direction your life is meant to go. This relationship must end.”
“Whoa there big hooded fella” I replied, appalled by his rude opening line. “That will NOT be happening!”
“He is not the one for you, this is not where your life is headed, let him go and move on.”
“I don’t remember asking you for advice, this is none of your black capey business.”
“This must end. Now”, He demanded.
“No!” I could feel myself getting emotional as I argued back.
The tone of his thought/voice was firm and unwavering. There would be no compromise. I started to cry.
“But.. I love him.”
“This is not the life you are meant to live. The relationship must end.”
As he said that, I began to sob, and before I knew it this large hooded figure reached out and pulled me in for a hug.
I kid you not.
The moment we made contact I felt an amazing rush of incredible love and I knew EVERYTHING.
I mean EVERYTHING.
Who killed J.R., why we are here, the reason for it all, the cure for cancer, the names of all the planets in our galaxy and every baby that will ever be born on Earth. EVERYTHING.
I remember thinking for one split second remember this and omg it is all so easy.
When he let go of me I knew in my kishkes that my life had been changed forever, but I didn’t remember anything else.
“Show me your face” I begged.
“Not now”
“Then when?”
It was everything I could do not to reach up and pull the hood down but I was suddenly distracted by a telephone ringing in the distance. I turned around and started to run to answer it. As I raced out of the cave and back toward the light and the sound of the ringing, I remember glancing over my shoulder to see if he was still there—but he was gone.
I opened my eyes to bright sunlight streaming through the blinds and my telephone ringing loudly on the floor just where I’d left it the night before.
“Hello?” I croaked, my mouth so void of saliva that my lips were sticking to my teeth.
Silence. Then, “Hey baby…we have to talk”. And right then and there he told me he didn’t want to see me anymore. I pleaded for a reason, something I did wrong, something I could do to change his mind, but he was adamant. Just like that, we were over.
“That hooded dude did a Jedi-mind trick on your boy!”, Kim exclaimed at the end of my story.
“Really? You don’t see it? It’s as plain as day!”, she snort-laughed seeing the gobsmacked expression on my face.
Why hadn’t I ever thought of that?!
“OMG! He still can’t explain why he left you, hence all the regrets and looking back”, she howled.
She’s right. The dream provided me some warning for the impending 180 my life was about to take, but the Universe took the wheel and forgot to share its plans with my friend.
In the middle of it all, I took score.
Note to self: Don’t take score in the middle.
I was convinced my life was over when it was only just beginning.
In response to my extreme dumb-shittery during our time together, his departure facilitated a life-long spiritual practice . I went on a journey of self-discovery, saw the world, and started eating meat again, just not in that order.
And beware of black-hooded telepaths who hang out in caves giving hugs—for they may speak the truth.
Carry on,
xox
