Eep!!!

That was the sound my brain made today when the universe decided to knock me on my ass and say "nope, not so fast, my friend. You ain't closing any books and moving on quite yet." The past week and a half has been a parade of boys from Christmas past, nearly all the ones I've dated or liked in the past few years, all coming out of the woodwork to shake my world up a bit. You wonder why I've been so reflective? This is why.

To be fair, I see two of them all the time. They are my crosses to bear for wading in the workplace dating pool. But about a week and a half ago, I saw the brother of the first boy I ever dated. The boy who told me that one of the reasons he liked being with me so much and didn't want to let go (though he was in the middle of a possible reconciliation with his ex unbeknownst to me) was because I was so innocent and optimistic at the time. Unscarred and unscathed from any real heartache, thinking the worst of people never even crossed my mind then. He found it "refreshing."

Then there was the boy from whom I fled. Not a proud moment by any means, but I think less contact meant less ruminating.

Today, there were two incidents. One, a voicemail from an old crush who may or may not have liked me back. Distance and job uncertainty proved to be a downfall but today I got a voicemail saying "it's nice to hear your voice again. Hope you had a good new years in SF and we'll have to catch up soon." Harmless, fun, and not too agonizing.

The second, literally walked up to my face. A boy whom I dated after "The One" had crushed me to tiny bits the first time around (there were a couple of rounds). Someone whom I knew wasn't right for me nor in it for the long term, but hey why not? He was nice to me, I genuinely liked him, and found him fascinating in the you're-nothing-like-me-at-all-and-I-could-never-introduce-you-to-my-family kind of way. I believed people described him as "surly." At least he wasn't a wimpy nice guy who hemmed and hawed so that I never knew exactly where I stood.

We dated for a summer until he moved out of the country in the fall and I thought I'd never see him again. Unfortunately I still heard about him sporadically from mutual friends who had no idea, telling me about his exploits and girls, right up until half a year later when he came back for a visit for our company party and I was drunk out of my mind from depression. I thought "OK, NOW I'll never see him again."

Surprise! He's back in town visiting with overseas girlfriend in town, all grown up, less lost and hopefully no longer searching for himself like I claimed he was when he first told me about his plans to leave the country. I must sadly admit that I tried to flee and hide again, thinking "Really what is the point? I prefer most boys from the past to stay in the past and drop off the face of the earth." It really is much easier that way.

Interestingly enough, he was the more mature one and came by to chat, give me a hug, introduce me to his sweet girlfriend, and bring by his dog I had loved so much. And then, at the oddest of times, I felt some hope for all those hapless boys out there. I was sincerely happy for him, pleased that he made the effort to stop by, closure beaming out like the rays of the sun. Even though it's not with me, (and it does seem that they seem to get their act together AFTER me. go figure.), at least some of them do grow up and get better. I can only hope I'm the lucky beneficiary of some other poor woman's heartaching finished product. The other circle of life.