He wasn't exactly a stranger to me - more than likely we'd met each other nearly 20 years ago. We shared a mutual friend who my then fiancé (now ex-husband) had employed as a bartender at his restaurant. That mutual friend took his own life in 2011, and in 2012 while many of us were still posting tributes and notes on his Facebook wall, I posted something that caught his attention and he friended me on Facebook. In 2013, knowing his love for motorcycles, I invited him to my church's annual biker weekend. He spotted me in the crowd and spoke to me, introducing me to his ex-wife and her fiancé. Nice. It's good to know I'm not the only one capable of having a civil relationship with an ex. I was in a serious relationship at the time. A couple of weeks later, he offered to take me for a ride on his bike. I respectfully declined, saying I didn't think my boyfriend would appreciate it. He would later tell me that my response caught his attention and impressed him because of the way I thought and responded.
We shared a couple of brief e-mail exchanges, but that was it. We both existed on the periphery of one another's worlds, entering the other's thoughts from time to time.
In June of this year, he caught wind of the fact that I was no longer in my relationship. He asked me again if I'd like to go for a ride on his bike. He gave me his number, asked me to call, and I refused. Initially. The first night we talked, it flowed rather easily. The next day he drove 90 miles from where he was to give me a ride in a brief window of opportunity I had without my children. I was excited to ride, but that was the extent of it. I apologized for possibly being presumptuous, but went on to tell him that I was only interested in hanging out and to not start calling me or asking to spend time together. I was very honest about the state of my heart. My relationship had ended very badly with an enormous amount of hurt, tension, and stress. I was still healing and needed time before I could even consider dating, let alone being in a relationship. I was also really enjoying my freedom, even if I chose to use it to simply be at home, with my kids, or with close friends. He agreed, having recently been through some drama of his own.
On that first ride, I fought the overwhelming urge to allow myself to just lean into him. We spent hours together that day and in the next few days to come. All of our time was spent in conversation. It came so easily and we each had so much to say and so much to hear. We'd try to watch a movie, and couldn't bear to shut up long enough to focus on a script or a plot. I made a half-hearted attempt to keep him at arm's length - not that he was being pushy at all. But I was wise enough to know not to completely shut him out and miss the possibility of something beautiful blossoming between us. It already was.
Two months later, he feels like home to me. He has been more engaged with my kids than any of my 3 significant post-divorce relationships ever were, even over the course of a year or more. My diva Chihuahua that refuses to go to anyone but me? She jumps into his lap when he comes over. She lets him flip her on her back and rub her tummy. It's mind-blowing. And noteworthy.
Sometimes, our plans look good on paper, but don't jive with our hearts and souls. Sometimes you have to call an audible and change the game plan you previously formulated. You just go with it, all too aware that it may backfire, but equally aware it might just turn out to be what you were looking for - and hiding from - all along.
