But Let's Not Get Ahead of Ourselves

But let's get back for a moment to Scott, like I said I would. 

But first, we have to get back to Craig. Because he's part of the reason I even responded to Scott. And this goes back a few weeks.

Craig had been a little scarce for a while and I was wondering if the next date would materialize.  But he never completely lost touch, just faded a little. Work, home, whatever.  I know all the words to that song.  Life is a juggling act when you have a lot to care about.

And so one day as I drove home from work he sent me a lovely text and suggested some plans. And of course I accepted. The first date was so wonderful, of course I wanted a second one.  And as soon as we had the game plan set, he did exactly as I'd hoped. He was flirty. He was attentive. He was sweet. He was accessible. I was loving every minute of it.

And I began to feel badly about Scott out there flapping in the breeze wondering if I'd gotten his message and wondering if I had anything to say. If I had vanished into thin air. If I was depressed and disturbed and having trouble getting out of bed or if I had instead gone on a wild dating spree and was being wined and dined by everything in a pair of pants.

So I responded finally, simply saying that I just really didn't know what to say to his message. Which is the truth. The unembellished, not elaborated upon, not particularly detailed, un-footnoted, not particularly informative, yet informative enough, vague, mysterious, flatly-affected truth.

And he replied pretty quickly.  Unexpected on a Friday night. I was home with the kids but assumed he'd be out. Out with the guys, or out with a girl, or out looking for a girl, or doing something that would preclude him from responding so quickly.

But he did. "I'm sorry for what I did. Please don't hate me forever."

And I simply replied that I don't hate him. I'd forgiven him months ago. 

And I had. It had not been easy, but I am not about to carry the weight of a grudge for the rest of my life. My soul would be crushed under the weight of it for sure. I need to have good vibes out there in the universe.

Hating someone and not forgiving them their transgressions is so taxing.  Like someone said once, on that never-ending river of advice, Facebook, "Holding a grudge is like drinking poison and expecting the other guy to die."  Not I, she said, as my mother would say.

And perhaps that was all he'd needed to hear. He was forgiven. Everyone who struggles with regret wants to be forgiven. Flogs themselves until they get it. It pokes a hole in a person's soul.  Living a life without reason for regret is a mantra I'd encourage everyone young person to subscribe to.  It is freeing.

Perhaps I'd set him free. And now we were truly free from each other. Perhaps.