A Christmas.

Feelings for Dax came in waves, super charged electric waves. The type you don’t see coming and you have to catch your breathe after. He was funny, witty and friendly. My heart would skip beats when I saw his name appear on my caller ID. We could talk for hours about his work, my work, cooking, politics, running. He was always willing to lend an ear and give advice. We never brought up Claire, but I figured it was because he didn’t want to connect emotion to our friendship. That ship has sailed long time prior for me. I kept thinking the worst, so I wouldn’t be disappointed. What happened next rocked me to my core.

A Night For Thinking.

Recently I have found myself appreciative of a night schedule. More time to enjoy the dark, the noise of the radio and vibrant pulse of the streets. It helps to break down feelings I’ve been through lately. I hypothesize that I do not have the right to miss him, because he was never mine. Dax, in a sense was broken, and allowed and encouraged me, or us to explore feelings that we should not have. I don’t know Claire, but I know enough about heart ache and relationships to know that regardless of how innocent he seemed, or how nice he was, he committed adultery. And I let him.

Dax was open from the beginning about his unhappiness with Claire. He told me he married her due to pressure to conform. I felt bad, he stated it was a mistake, I began to hope that possibly my fairy tale was about to win. But it didn’t, although from what I am aware of, Claire is unaware that his ring came off, both physically and emotionally. Claire doesn’t know me, and I have apologized a million times into the night sky. Whether they will ever be needed; that is to be seen. But, I know now that what happened was ten percent a lesson and 90 percent betrayal. Dax would never admit it, but I could see him struggling with it, but now it doesn’t matter, as he is now gone. I am here, craving to heal the bruise, and praying and promising that I will never be that girl again.

We Plan, God laughs. We Learn, and it Hurts.

We met at a dive bar on the edge of town. It was one of those nights where you go out because you made a promise to go out. Against what you think is your better judgement, you hastily decide that your current hair updo  is fine, that your haphazard makeup job will suffice; and who to impress really. And everyone can go fuck themselves if they make a comment to the contrary. I remember standing in front of mirror, half still asleep (dang night shifts) and thinking to myself, “how much would they kill me if I went back to bed”. But I trudged out the door, jumped into a cold car and drove across town to pick up willing participant number one. 

Enter Natalie. She’s that type of girl that if she wasn’t my friend I would probably hate her. Married, one child, Ethan. Perfect husband, nice house. Add that to the fact that she is fantastic at her job, and…….yeah I’m starting to hate her now. 

I remember she jumped into the car and we immediately begin the late 20 something year old gossip succession of the last week. Work, family, boys, men. All the while I drove innocently to a place I can no longer think the same about.

It’s funny when you think back to the moment exactly before you walked into something that will change your life. I remember walking up to the front door of that bar. I remember swinging the door open. I remember my other friend Racy standing there. She immediately began to chastise us for being late. I remember a group standing directly behind her, clearly enjoying our best friend for years bickering session about punctuality. And I remember that baseball hat, and those eyes and that black jacket.

It’s funny how you don’t expect a train to hit you. 

It’s a weird concept. I think about that moment when I was opening that door. My life was normal before then (or so I thought). Such a small moment before such a life altering event. God was laughing in that moment, I know it. I think he gets a kick out of the lessons he hands us.

We had friends in common, as we found out into our second beer. Our groups had merged. I just had this feeling that something was magical between us. The way he looked at me, the way I he smiled. I reminded myself to keep it in check through out the night. The simple silver band on his left hand did a good job at that. Someone else. I kept telling myself that my mind was playing tricks on itself, and that I was an idiot. 

Racy and Natalie could see it, and I knew it. On a trip back up to the bar Racy gave me the “don’t you even dare, I will kill you” stare. I acknowledged it. The group spoke for hours, soon Natalie had consumed to much Bacardi and Racy began complaining about the early work morning. It was decided to call it a night.

A gin buzz is never something to have when making important decisions like how to get home. Especially when the idea of sharing a taxi involves you, him and a short distance between the two stops. Gin will give you the courage of wonder woman, and so wonder woman picked up his phone and dialed her own. And THAT ladies and gentleman is where I, Annie Marie McLean, learned my first lesson of this journey.

When one gets a new number in one’s phone. One tends to send a text to it the next night, after replaying the previous night in her head, over and over, and over.

Lesson learned. line crossed.

An Introduction

“Write  hard and clear about what hurts”. – Ernest Hemingway.

His name was Dax. He was 28 years old, he was tall with blue eyes and a smile that could melt me to the floor and beyond. He worked as a real estate agent in the small town of Two Harbors Minnesota. He was married to a beautiful blonde haired goddess who seemed perfect. Her name was Claire. Dax was perfect even when his troubles and mistakes crept through the cracks I had tried to patch up for him. His name was Dax. He was perfectly imperfect. 

I was in love with him. My name is Anne Marie. 

This is my version of events. Events which happen every day, in every town and in every country. I know that the nights I spent wide awake staring at the ceiling were shared with thousands of other men and women, who, on their own island of pillows replayed moment after moment, looking for love, looking for happiness, redemption, clarification and resolve. And all we get, is the restless sleep which inevitably comes, and the time in space where dreams can be a reality, if only for a little while. Then that moment, when you first awake, and open your eyes, and for that millisecond, everything is okay. In that second I can confidently say that Dax is laying next to me, and I will roll over and be greeted by his smile.

My heart broken pieces will live in that moment, until I am ready to move past it, and I will burst from it, and become the women I have always wanted to be.