Soaring Solo 2010

[ClingingToHope]

Nice. I'll be waiting to hear how it goes. Who set you up?

[whatisis]

OMG, don't go in blind...open your eyes, especially if you're driving to meet her. I'll be sitting on my couch tonight, watching football and rooting for you...well, I probably won't give you a second thought, after all it is football, but may the force be with you!

[Gardener]

Full disclosure:
Set up by the owner of a tavern where the non-drinking gardener goes to dinner a lot & for music. One of the best local live-music venues in the area.
She said, "I have a nice woman for you. Would you like to meet her?"
I sad, "Sure. Tell you what: give her this extra concert ticket I have for the day after tomorrow." No pressure, no agenda. Venue was only about 45 minutes away.
Next day: "You're all set. I gave her the ticket. She's interested and excited. Will meet you there tomorrow."

She never showed.

But, hey, it was a Mary Chapin Carpenter concert and Gardener was in heaven, nonetheless. 4th row, dead center! When she chatted with the audience, the microphone blocked most of her face, that's how close it was.

And none of her sad, gut wrenching (though beautiful) songs. Just happy songs and sh!t-kicking clap and stomp till it hurts, sing and shout till I was hoarse songs.

I had a blast.

A bit disappointed, honestly. But, hey: nothing ventured, nothing gained. Took a chance.

Had fun anyway.

Like I said last week: I'm okay. I'm okay alone. I'm okay living lone. I'm okay being single.

And for me, my friends, that is serious progress - a new plateau.

A phrase I've used before, jokingly, came to mind a few times last night: "Your loss, toots."

Only kidding. No regrets. Whoever she is, she's human and has a life and any number of things, feelings, etc., could have gotten in the way/conspired to keep her from rolling that dice and taking a chance.

And that's fine.

Peace,

[TimeHeals]

Mary Chapin Carpenter

I saw her in Cherry Hill, NJ about 8 or so years ago. Steve Earl opened for her (just Steve and his guitar, no band).

I became a die-hard Steve Earl fan after that.

[TimeHeals]

Only kidding. No regrets. Whoever she is, she's human and has a life and any number of things, feelings, etc., could have gotten in the way/conspired to keep her from rolling that dice and taking a chance.

And that's fine.

Peace,

I'm going to save you a lot of money now: meet them for coffee or frozen yogurt or something when you first are meeting them (especially blind like this).

Most it costs you that way is 8 bucks.

If you're getting a good vibe, ask for their phone number. If they don't give it to you, move on. I just saved you some time too.

[ClingingToHope]

Gardener, you are my hero.

[whatisis]

Glad you had a good time! I hope one day to be where you are

[hoosiermama]

sounds like a great evening, gardener! too bad it didn't work out as planned, but sounds like it may have been for the best anyway. so happy you enjoyed the concert.

[Gardener]

hm,

I know what you mean. I started over at 33; it was no picnic, but it was nothing like this (at 52 when all this began). All I can say is...one breath at a time.

Thanks. Boy, do I know that feeling. I started over @ 38. Love of my life. Her and her children were a mid-life gift from above. 16 great years.

And, ultimately, she had to - had to - run away. Snodderly (and others) confirmed my gut instincts.

I'll start over again. But nothing exclusive. Not for me. She ran, ended it legally (and emotionally, etc.,) but I had my one-in-a-million wife. In my heart of hearts (if no longer in my life-of-lives), I had my one true wife.

I vowed to love, honor, cherish her and love her children as my own.

I did not break my vows: I love (agape) her as a person, cherish who she once was - but is no more - and I still, and always will, love her children as my own.

So I have broken no vows (nor in the above sense, will I - could I).

But there will be no other wife. Ever. She was it. I'm thankful for that which was.

What it was is irreplaceable in my soul. So I'll not try to replace it. It was, fortunately, for seventeen years.

And it was, unfortunately, only for seventeen years.

But it was. Not many people have that even once in a lifetime.
I did.

I will not attempt to replace that which - despite all that transpired in the last 20 months - I had.
And will never have - nor need, nor want - again.
I truly lucked out once.
That's over, but that was enough. That was it.

I cannot wish ill upon someone I loved so deeply for so long.

And just as that piece of paper in 1992 simply confirmed a marriage that had already taken place in the deepest sense, the subsequent piece of paper in February of this year did not - could not - negate that marriage that had taken place.

She is gone. It is "over". But there will be no other. There can be no other.
Philosophical - and repetitive - tonight, I know.

But true.

[Gardener]

And, Goddammit, I still miss so much who she once was.